


Love Songs

by ThePathLessTrekked



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blackmail, Break Up, Country Music, Drama, Family Drama, Happy Ending, Homophobia, M/M, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Self-Discovery, Singer AU, fake engagement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1971633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePathLessTrekked/pseuds/ThePathLessTrekked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard McCoy was certain that someone as pierced and tattooed as Jim Kirk wouldn't know the first thing about singing country music, but Jim quickly proves that appearance isn't everything.</p><p>Once he starts to unravel Jim's secretive past, Bones realizes that he's been hiding himself for the sake of family image for too long. For the first time in his life he's ready to face down his father, especially if the end result is getting Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Play Something Country

 

 

**Chapter One ‒ Play Something Country**

_Ten more minutes, just ten more minutes. Ten. More. Minutes._

The mantra continued in Leonard McCoy’s head as he watched the clock on the opposite wall with unfaltering concentration. He felt like a kid waiting for class to end before a long weekend, only this wasn’t a class. This was a meeting with the board of the Fleet Medical Center and Leonard wasn’t a student, he was a doctor. The board meeting droned on as the seconds ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace. Len wondered if anyone had noticed his brain starting to leak out of his ears. Really, should he be concerned that not one person in a room full of doctors was worried about gray matter spilling out of his head?

“However, we could make more room for it in our budget if we had a few donations.” The president’s focus shifted to Len. “Doctor McCoy, do you have any thoughts on how we might manage some fundraising?” 

Len barely managed to keep from scoffing, but did nothing to temper his scowl. Of course they would look to him for fundraising ideas. 

“I hear bake sales tend to draw the crowds,” he drawled, noting the sour pucker of the president’s mouth with satisfaction. Unfortunately, the other man didn’t seem ready to accept the hint. 

“Surely, the governor—”

“My _father_ ,” McCoy said pointedly, “is careful not to play favorites.” A lie. “He won’t donate to this hospital simply because I work here.” Not a lie. 

Len shot a glance at the clock. Two minutes. Why did this pompous asshole have to focus on him _now?_ He was practically vibrating with the itch to get out of this meeting and was certain it showed. 

The president’s mouth twitched but he seemed to be willing to drop the subject for now. 

“I suppose that we’ll simply have to brainstorm some other ideas then. We’ll discuss it at next week’s meeting. Have a nice day.” 

The scrape of chairs and shuffling of papers didn’t quite drown out the murmurs about Leonard’s behavior, but he was out the door so quickly that he didn’t bother to listen. He knew what they were saying anyway. 

Len wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of hospital etiquette, but he was the hospital’s best surgeon and no one was going to complain about his attitude when his hands were so valuable. As long as he wasn’t breaking laws or getting anyone killed, the board tended to leave him alone. 

He was already in the parking garage when he thought to pull out his phone and desperately punched in a number. There were two rings before a steady female voice answered. 

“Hello?”

“Nyota, please, for the love of everything good on this earth, _please_ tell me you were planning on going out tonight.” Len opened the door to his car and sank into the driver’s seat. He could feel the tension turning his shoulders to rock. 

“I thought you didn’t have a meeting today.” Nyota sounded amused and Len wanted to pinch her for it. She understood how much he hated meetings and was usually more than willing to let him tag along while she scouted clubs. Apparently today he had caught her in a teasing mood. 

“I wrote down the wrong day.” He sighed and pulled the car door shut. “It’s been a stressful week.” 

The woman hummed in understanding. 

“I’m going to Farragut tonight. Not to scout, just for shits and giggles. I can pick you up around seven if you want to tag along.” 

“You’re a lifesaver.” 

“I know. I’ll see you at seven, Len.” 

With a sigh he hit the end button and tossed the phone into a cup holder. He had two hours to get home, wash the smell of hospital off of him, and change. He had plenty of time. 

As long as he didn’t hit traffic. 

Fuck, he hated California.

\---------------------------------------------

It was seven o’clock sharp when Nyota pulled up. The woman was always on time, but luckily, so was Len. He was already waiting outside on the steps, legs stretched out and ankles crossed. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows to fight some of the warm air from the LA night. He pushed himself up from the concrete steps that lead into the modern-looking house and walked over to greet her.

“So,” Ny started as Len got into the car. “There’s been a change of plans. We’re going to head over to my friend’s club. Her cousin is playing tonight and as unbelievably annoying he is, he does good music. I tried to get him to sign a few years ago, but no go.”

Len raised an eyebrow and clicked his seatbelt on. 

“Don’t you usually get your target in fifteen minutes or so?”

“Like I said, unbelievably annoying.” She grinned at him and pulled back out onto the street. “He had other things to worry about.” 

The drive was only 30 minutes even with the Westwood traffic one would  usually hit around eight p.m. Len was already starting to lose the tension that had begun to build in his shoulders during the meeting, his father’s influence fading with each stoplight. 

The club itself was really more of a bar, just a small building shoved in a corner between a clothing store and a coffee place. Apparently, the woman who owned the coffee place owned the club too. 

“Gaila. She’s a bombshell of woman.” Ny explained as they approached the building. “Somewhat attached to the Scot she married though, otherwise I’d suggest you take a serious look in her direction.”

Leonard snorted. 

“I’m sure my father would be thrilled to find out I had turned from my debutant ex-wife to the owner of a bar.” He looked around as they entered. The dark wood floors and tables were elegant enough. The actual bar ran along the right wall, stocked well with what looked to be very nice liquor. There was a sound booth in the corner behind it and lights that ran across the front to focus on the stage that took up the back wall. There were maybe 15 small tables placed on the floor, cozy but not so tight that people wouldn’t be able to breath. His father would hate it.

Len liked it instantly. It was the intimate kind of place where people should get their start. 

“You come here often?” He waggled his eyebrows at Nyota. She laughed and waved him away.

“I do actually. Gaila and I are pretty good friends. Spock introduced us.” Spock Grayson was Nyota’s tall and very serious husband. He and Len didn’t get along too well, but managed to keep it civil while under Ny’s deadly glare. 

“So what’s on the menu for tonight?” There were already a few people at the tables, chatting softly and enjoying a drink. 

“I’m not sure actually, I think it migh—”

“NYOTA UHURA!” A flash of red curls muffled Ny’s response. Slim arms wrapped around her shoulders and obscured her face; they seemed to be trying to shove Uhura out of existence. “What did I say? He’s going to see you and then what?” 

“Gaila, get off! Don’t try to pretend that you didn’t invite me!” She shoved the pale woman off of her and tugged at her shirt, trying to smooth out the wrinkles the attack had caused. Len could see what she had meant about a bombshell. The woman had slim arms yes, but a soft, sweet face and curves a country road would be jealous of. 

“Besides,” Ny continued, drawing Len’s attention away from Gaila’s pale freckled skin. “I’m pretty sure he heard you.” 

“I might have.” An amused voice came from Leonard’s left. He turned to see who had spoken and was greeted  –  no, _accosted_ –  by the sight of a blond man in a thin long-sleeve tee shirt and faded jeans. His young face already had laugh lines around his eyes, made deeper by the warm smile that spread across his lips. “Long time no see, Uhura.” 

“Not long enough, Kirk.” Her voice was curt, but she was smiling and reaching over for a hug. After a few seconds, she released him but kept a hand on his shoulder, turning to introduce them to Len. “This is my friend Leonard McCoy. Len this is Gaila Scott and her cousin Jim Kirk.” 

“Lovely to meet you Len! I hope you don’t mind country music, we always have a honky tonk night when Jimmy comes to visit.” Gaila had the same smiling eyes that Kirk did, all mischief and laughter, which was why he wasn’t sure if he believed her right away. 

If anyone was going to play country, it sure as hell wasn’t Jim Kirk. 

The surprise on his face must have been pretty obvious when his eyes shot back to look at Jim, who had his arms crossed over his chest and a pierced eyebrow raised. 

“Kid, you don’t look like you have a country bone in your body. And I would know, I was born and bred in Georgia.” 

Nyota put a hand over her face and sighed.

“Most people say hello, Len.”

Jim was snickering. His right brow had leveled out, drawing the little bar at the end of it back in line with startlingly blue eyes. “I like him, he’s up front.”

“He is that.” Uhura eyed the doctor like he was some kind of disaster waiting to happen. He couldn’t quite find it in himself to feel guilty about it. Jim Kirk certainly didn’t look like he would know country if it came up to him and slapped him. The kid had black eyeliner smudged around the corners of his eyes and blond hair that looks like it took an hour to get to the correct point of dishevelment. Not to mention he had more holes in his head than Leonard thought was healthy for one person.

“How many piercings do you even have?” 

“Oh god, Jimmy can you count that high?” Gaila was snickering behind her fingers. “He’s been getting them since he was 16.” Jim wrinkled his nose at her but began to tick off the count on his fingers.

“Eyebrow. Labret.” He pointed to the stud that rested in the dip below his lower lip. “Industrial, that makes four.” He tapped the spiraled bar that ran diagonally through the cartilage of his left ear. “Two on the left ear and three on the right. So that brings us to nine. The nose.” Len noticed the small silver ring that wrapped around his left nostril. “And the dermals make twelve.”

“The ever loving hell are dermals?” Usually, he was much more polite than this and his Ma would be horrified to hear him talking like this to a complete stranger, but something about Jim threw him off guard. Luckily, Jim didn’t seem to perturbed by it. He simply turned around and tugged down the collar of his black tee. There on his nape, right where his neck met his shoulders, were two studs, seemingly embedded into the skin. 

He was also wearing nail polish. Teal nail polish. 

“You should see his tattoos sometime. Jim-bob, you’re supposed to be on that stage in five minutes. I hope your guitar is already tuned.” A thick Scottish accent came from the shorter man behind Jim. He was waving the kid away from the small group and towards the stage. “I’m not here to be your mother, get up there! I’m Monty, by the way.”

“Call him Scotty!” Jim scampered off and jumped up onto the stage. 

“Scotty, Monty, whatever floats your boat. And you are?” The fast talking Scotsman was looking at Leonard expectantly. 

“Uh, Len. Leonard McCoy.” 

“Nice to meet you, McCoy. Welcome to Warp Core.” 

“He’s our tech for the club.” Gaila rested her arm on the man’s shoulder and grinned over at him. “Don’t think too highly of him though, he only got the job by sleeping with the owner.” 

Nyota chuckled.

“We’ll let you two get back to running the place. We’re going to sit down and enjoy the show.” She led Len off to a table close to the stage but further to the side. Within five minutes they each had a complimentary beer in front of them. Len couldn’t get over the ease that Nyota’s friends welcomed him.

“Are all your friends this damned chatty?”

“Of course not. I’m friends with you aren’t I?”

“Har. Har. Har. Seriously, though. There is no way in hell that kid knows how to play country. I mean—” He gestured to Jim who had, in fact, not tuned his guitar and was doing so now. 

“Oh, bless your heart.” Jim had turned to look at him, apparently sound traveled really well in this building. The singer was grinning. “This gentleman over here doesn’t seem to think I fit the guidelines of a cowboy. Let’s see if I can change his mind.” He turned around to look at the large man behind him playing back up. “Can you catch me on the backup vocals for this one, Cupcake?” The other man scowled but nodded. 

Jim counted out the beat and started singing. 

_Yeah I got a friend in New York City_

_He's never heard of Conway Twitty_

_Don't know nothing about grits and greens_

_Never been south of Queens,_

_But he flew down here on a business trip_

_I took him honky tonkin' and that was it._

_He took to it like a pig to mud, like a cow to cud._

 

Len nearly spat out his beer once Jim started to sing. He _did_ drop his head to the table to start laughing. Of all the ways the kid could have proved him wrong. The doctor had expected something a little more edgy. Maybe some Garth Brooks if the blond didn’t want to seem too much like a hick. This was not anywhere close. 

Jim winked at him and kept singing. 

_We all got a hillbilly bone down deep inside_

_No matter where you from you just can't hide it_

_And when the band starts banging and the fiddle saws_

_You can't help but hollering, Yee Haw!_

_When you see them pretty little country queens_

_Man you gotta admit that's in them genes_

_Ain't nothing wrong, just getting on your_

_Hillbilly bone-ba-bone-ba-bone-bone._

Jim had his eyebrow raised again, looking off stage towards Len. “I may not look country, but I promise I got a hillbilly bone or two in me.”

Len couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. The audience laughed and clapped. 

“Right, now that we have that settled,” Jim squinted out into the crowd. “How about we get to something a little more serious? And something I actually wrote. You know, so I don’t get sued.” Jim started strumming again. 

_Hm-m-m-m-mmm_

_Someday I will find_

_My ticket outta here_

_Wake up one mornin'_

_And just start packin'_

_Yea-I'll make up my mind_

_And I'll lay down my fear_

_Stop waitin' for the next bad thing to happen_

_I'm ready for the rainbow to begin_

_I just got through a storm of tears_

_I thought would never end._

Jim’s voice was rich and just this side of rough. It sent a line of warmth through Len’s chest and down into the pit of his stomach. He could see why Nyota wanted him to sign with Enterprise. 

 

_Someday was a dream that always seemed to turn out wrong_

_But now it's not so far away_

_Puttin' off tomorrow_

_Is 24 hours too long_

_I guess my someday came today._

 

“Holy shit, Ny. Where have you been hiding him?” Len couldn’t stop watching as the younger man sang into the mic. This wasn’t someone that should have been singing in their cousin’s bar, Jim should be playing to an audience of hundreds at least. 

“I told you so.” She smiled but didn’t look away from Jim either. “He was doing his own thing for a long time, wasn’t really in the position to go into a contract. I’m not sure he’d even want to anymore.”  

The audience clapped again, some letting out a few whistles. Jim bowed and waved as he hopped back off the stage. The next person shot him a thumbs up as they took his spot. Jim walked over to Len and Ny’s table. He had his guitar slung over his back, so he grabbed a chair and flipped it around, straddling the back of it. 

“So, Bones. Country enough for you?” 

“Bones?”

“Hillbilly bone-ba-bone-bones.” Jim’s voice made Len’s stomach drop. 

“Oh god, you’ve known me for thirty minutes and you’ve already stuck me with a nickname?”

“Yep.” The “p” popped off of the singer’s lips. “So what do you do Leonard McCoy?” Thankfully, Ny stepped in for him. Len was still distracted by how sharp a pop Jim’s lips could make. He felt like an idiot.

“Len’s a doctor. A neurosurgeon.”

“No shit?” Jim’s eyebrows had flown up to his hairline. “I would have for sure thought you were a music industry guy.”

“Well, we’re all learning that looks can be deceiving tonight, aren’t we?” Len put on a lazy smile. “You want a beer, kid?”

“No, thanks.”

Suddenly, Len found himself really looking at Jim’s face. The kid was young, at least five years younger than he was, if not more. 

“You _are_ legal right?”He looked over to Nyota, slightly panicked that he might have just offered a beer to a minor. She was laughing at him.

“You’re in the clear, I promise.” She was still snickering when Jim made faces at her. The facial piercings made them seem sillier than the doctor would have thought. 

“I’m an old soul, it’s hard to tell.” Jim put his chin on his fist, looking at the two across the table from the top of the chair back. “Uhura’s been a middle-aged soul since she was 15, that’s why Spock actually married her. What about you, Bones?”

Nyota rolled her eyes and took another sip of her beer. Len decided he liked Jim even more. 

“I’ve come to terms that I have too many little sins built up against me for a soul. I’m an outsider.” He raised his beer in a salute.

“So you have a grumpy old man soul.”

“You know what, kid? I take back my previous decision to like you.” Len shook his head in mock disappointment, but Jim just grinned. 

“I’m pretty sure I could change your mind again.” 

Len didn’t want to admit it, but he had no doubt that Jim could change his mind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs this chapter are "Hillbilly Bone" by Blake Shelton and "Someday Came Today" by Chris Pine. Because of course that dork can actually sing too.


	2. I Love This Bar

**Chapter 2 **-**  I Love This Bar**

 

Warp Core became Leonard’s go-to when he wasn’t on call. If the bar was closed, the coffee shop was open and Gaila was always there with a perky smile and strong cup of coffee. He was starting to see why Ny had told him they would have made a good couple. She was bright, funny, gorgeous, and one of the smartest women he had ever met. He had come in on her and Nyota speaking Italian. Apparently, she had originally wanted to be an engineer, but fell in love with music and coffee when she moved to Italy for a summer internship.  

Nyota had a similar story. She had started traveling to become more fluent in however many languages she spoke (Len could never quite remember if it was five or nine) and fell in love with the music scenes in underground bars. She had an excellent ear. 

Which was how she had met Leonard. He was drowning the sorrows of his divorce in a bottle of whiskey, asking for more when she had called him out on his accent. 

“What’s a Georgia boy doing in California?” She didn’t look particularly amused by the scruffy looking man next to her. The red barlights were bouncing off of her dark skin, making the angles of her face seem sharper than they actually were. 

“Drinking. You?” For some reason, one Len had never been able to figure out and was too thankful to ask about, Uhura kept talking to him. They got on the topic of music and suddenly they were exchanging numbers and favorite bands. They had become friends somewhere in between Len’s bad mood and Ny’s ability to see the good in someone.

Sometimes he wondered if that was how she met Spock. The image of Spock Grayson actually being drunk made him start to snicker. Which was when the two women looked over at him.

“Hiya, Len! I got a coffee all ready for you.” Gaila set a large cup down on the counter and pushed it over to him. “Light on the cream and with three sugars.” It was the Engineering Room’s signature coffee, favored by the students that wandered in at all hours, and lovingly referred to as ‘fuel’ by everyone who drank it. Well everyone except Scotty. _It’s rocket fuel, you ninny. Give me back that cup, you don’t deserve to drink it._

“Gaila, you’re an angel.” 

She flashed him a cheeky grin and flipped her hair over her shoulder. 

“I know.” 

“Len, don’t feed her ego; her husband is bad enough.” Nyota was sipping on an earthy-smelling tea. “No work today?”

“Nah.” He took a sip of the coffee – it was perfect. Gaila was quickly becoming his favorite, or maybe Scotty was for his amazing taste in Scotch and his willingness to share it. “I have tonight and tomorrow off. A big surgery on Saturday though. You?”

“I’m on the clock tonight, but I have tomorrow to myself. They’re keeping me around the area for a little bit. I think they’re hoping I snag Jim.” Ny rolled her eyes. 

“Speak of the devil.” Gaila raised an eyebrow at the door to the cafe. Jim had shuffled in and Len had to bite back a laugh. The kid was wearing a huge hoodie and the faded jeans that Len had seen him wear on the night they met. Blond hair was swept every which direction, falling into his eyes and managing to stick up at the same time. He had his hands buried in the pockets of the gray sweatshirt and he was squinting so hard that the doctor was a little afraid the kid was going to trip on something as he shuffled up to the counter. 

Apparently, Jim Kirk was not a morning person. 

“Aww, rough night, kid?” Bones grinned at the singer and sipped his coffee. “You look as hungover as I’ve ever seen someone.”

Jim grunted and plopped down onto one of the plush chairs that were staggered around the cafe. He tucked his feet up under him and turned his scrunched-up face to Gaila. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll make you a coffee.” She rolled her eyes and started on the drink.

“How were the crowds last night, Jim?” Nyota had pushed away from the counter and took a chair across from him. Jim grunted again, his gaze never wavering from Gaila’s movements. 

“You can try and talk to him all you’d like, Ny. He’s impossible in the mornings.” She walked around the counter and shoved a large cup in Jim’s face. The blond hummed gratefully and wrapped his hands around it, bringing it to his nose before taking a deep satisfied breath.

“Kid, you are ridiculous.” 

Jim hummed in what Len was going to assume was agreement. 

\-------------------------------------------

Jim looked considerably more awake when Len came into the bar that night. 

“Hiya, Bones!” Jim was sitting cross legged on the stage in a dark green long sleeved tee instead of the huge hoodie now, guitar cradled in his lap while he tuned it. His nail polish was dark blue and he had something scrawled in black ink on his hand. Len felt his lips quirk in a smile when he realized it was a line of music notes, each one carefully labeled. 

“Hey, Jim. You look more awake.”

“Huh?” The blond looked up from the fingerboard with his eyebrows raised. “More awake than what?”

“Than this morning.” There was a long pause. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

Jim fought a grin and pressed on the inside of his lip piercing with his tongue. He looked embarrassed.

“Did I see you this morning?” 

“Holy shit, kid.” Len looked downright incredulous. “How hungover _were_ you?” 

“I wasn’t, I swear!” He chuckled and started plucking at the guitar strings again. “I’m just really bad at mornings. I stay up late and don’t wake up easy. So I’m pretty hopeless before a morning cup o’ joe. No hangover though. I don’t drink.” 

“Why not?” Before Jim could answer Gaila called from the bar. 

“Two minutes, Jim! You’re opening for us tonight.” 

“Sorry, Bones. Duty calls.” The blond stood up and moved to his proper spot on the stage. The bar was about half full now, meaning that Gaila would want to start the music soon. As far as Len knew, Jim would usually play a song or two before someone else would come in. The kid never played the whole night straight, but he had a feeling that was less because Jim didn’t want to and more so that other people could be heard. 

Len took the table he and Nyota had sat at the first night. After a month of coming in at least twice a week, it had unofficially become his spot. Jim double-checked his tuning and lowered the mic just a bit. 

“So. Thursdays.” The crowed made small noises of agreement, as if the statement meant something. “Only one more day till the weekend guys, so uh, let’s remember to be careful about what we do once it gets here.” He started to play. 

_He was sittin' at the bar, sippin' on a regular Coke_

_We were drinkin' and smokin' and makin' him the butt of our jokes_

_We all said, "Man, what happened to you? Why can't you just have a few?"_

_He said, "I would if I could, but it's probably best that I don't."_

 

There were a couple of yips and shouts from the audience. Jim winked and turned to Bones, singing at him. 

 

_Cause the more I drink, the more I drink_

_Yeah, I'm the world's greatest lover and a dancin' machine_

_I get loud, I get proud....and it gets worse_

_Well if I have one, I'll have thirteen_

_Naw, there ain't no in-between_

_Cause, the more I drink, the more I drink._

 

Len laughed as Jim held up one then three fingers, punctuating just how out of hand the situation would get. The singer made a wide-eyed, concerned face as he started on the next part. 

 

_A couple of cold ones, and somebody hands me a shot._

_Hell, even buck-tooth and bow-legged women start lookin' hot_

_And pretty soon I'm bummin' cigarettes and sweet talkin' some big brunette_

_Yeah, once I get on a roll, ain't no tellin' where I'll stop_

 

A woman catcalled and Jim grinned, rolling his hips to the music. Len’s mouth went dry so fast he wasn’t sure water would help.

 

_Man, if I have one, I'll have thirteen_

_And they can't get me off the karaoke machine,_

_The more I drink...the more I drink._

_Yeah, the more I drink, the more I drink, the more I drink._

 

The audience cheered and laughed as bowed dramatically.  He hopped off the stage and sauntered over to Len. 

“Cute song, kid.” The brunet tried to ignore how much he liked that lip piercing when Jim smirked.

“Hey, you asked.” 

Len rolled his eyes, but scooted his chair over so Jim could sit next to him. They didn’t know each other very well yet, only having met two or three other times. 

“So just get a little out of control?”

“When I drink? Yeah, I can. Better to just not have the temptation.” Jim shrugged and set the guitar down next to him. “Aren’t neurosurgeons not supposed to drink?” He nodded to the doctor’s beer.

“I’m not on call tonight and I don’t drink more than one drink a night, just in case.” He raised the glass in salute and took one last swig. “Broke that habit after the divorce.” 

“Oh, a divorcé. You get more and more interesting as the weeks go by, Bones.” Jim was watching him with a curious smirk. 

“Well, don’t get used to it. I only talk about my life story with friends.” 

“Aw, we aren’t friends?” Jim actually looked put out by it, but Len wasn’t going to back down now just because Jim looked pretty when he pouted.

“Have to be an acquaintance for at least two months before you can hit freind levels. You don’t seem the kind of guy to stick around that long.” He snorted when Jim narrowed his eyes at him. 

“I’m taking that as a challenge and I’m accepting that challenge.” 

Len laughed. “Good luck. I’m a grumpy bastard.” 

“Surprisingly enough, that makes the idea even more appealing.” 

\-------------------------------------------

“You write your own songs?” He took a sip of beer, trying not to make it too obvious that he was watching the blond over the top of his glass. They had been meeting at Warp Core for the last few weeks, with or without the usual company of Nyota, Gaila or Scotty. Tonight, it was just the two of them. 

“Yeah, I have one I’m working on right now.” Jim’s mouth quirked. “You’re actually the one who made me think of it.” 

The other man arched an eyebrow. “I did?”

“Yeah, you said it when we met. About going—”

“This one is dedicated to you, James.” 

Jim stopped mid-sentence, his mouth still still open. His looked up as if to focus on the voice behind him. 

“Well, that can’t be good.” He turned around to look at the stage. 

There was a serious-faced blond woman on the stage. She had the mic in her hand and was raising an eyebrow pointedly at Jim. The man hissed.

“Ah fuck, Janice.” 

“Did she just call you James?” 

Jim flicked his tongue against his lip piercing. Len had come to realize it was a nervous habit. 

“Yeah, she would.”

The woman blew a kiss to him and began to sway her hips. She had a powerful voice and was the kind of singer that put her entire body into the music. It wasn’t hard to imagine that she’d be the kind of body that Jim would put himself into.

 

 

_You better take it from me_

_That boy is like a disease_

_You run and you try and you're tryin' to hide_

_And you're wondering why you can't get free_

_He's like a curse, he's like a drug_

_You'll get addicted to his love_

_You wanna get out, but he's holdin' you down_

_'Cause you can't live without one more touch_

_He's a, a good time, cowboy Casanova_

_Leaning up against the record machine_

_He looks like a cool drink of water_

_But he's candy-coated misery_

_He's the devil in disguise, a snake with blue eyes_

_And he only comes out at night_

_Gives you feelings that you don't want to fight_

_You better run for your life_

 

Jim snorted and blew a kiss right back. He was grinning when he turned back to Len. 

“Bad date?” Bones eyes flicked between the two. He forgot that some people grew up here. They had lives here with backstories about crazy exes and summer romances.

“She _wishes._ ” Jim laughed. “Nah, she just likes to tease me. We got off to a shaky start before we were friends. Just friends.”

Bones stared at him. He looked back to the blond on stage, all languid sex wrapped up in music and then back to Jim, someone who looked like sex anytime he took a step.

“I’m having a hard time believing that. Did you do something to piss her off?”

“I may or may not have met her as I was leaving her apartment.” Jim’s eyes shot off to the side, he looked slightly uncomfortable. 

“What were you doing in her apartment?” Len took a sip of his beer, waiting for the answer.

“Having sex with her boyfriend.” 

He didn’t spit take, but it was a near thing.Jim was almost doubled over laughing.

“Oh my god, Bones! Your face!” Jim threw his head back, almost tilting backwards in his chair. 

“You are such a god damned child!” Bones scrubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to clear some of the beer that had managed to push past his lips. “I can’t believe you waited for me to take a drink.” 

Jim pressed the heel of his palms to his eyes, trying to stop tears from running down his face as he gasped for air.  Leonard bit back a smile; he was supposed to be angry. 

It took Jim another thirty or forty seconds to calm down. 

“Oh god, that was priceless. Thank you for that.” He chuckled and wiped at his eyes again. 

“That’s what I’m here for, cheap entertainment.” Bones was smiling in spite of himself. He ignored the part of himself that was punching the air over Jim admitting to sleeping with another man. “Hard to imagine you have any friends if you treat us all like this.” 

A grin spread over Jim’s face and Len realized his mistake almost right away. 

“Shit.” 

“I’m your frieeeeend?” Jim leaned forward resting his chin on his hand and fluttering his eyelashes. “Bones, do you liiiike me?”

“No. You’re obnoxious and you sing off key.” 

Jim scoffed. 

“I’m never off key.”

“So you admit to being obnoxious?” 

“Only to friends.” 

Len was grinning like a fool the rest of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs this chapter are "The More I Drink" by Blake Shelton and "Cowboy Casanova" by Carrie Underwood.


	3. Be Still

** Chapter 3 **-**  Be Still **

 

It wasn’t until a week later that Len managed to get back to the bar and when he did it was as much for a drink as for the company. 

He had scrubbed in on two emergency surgeries in the last 72 hours. The first one had ended in the worst way possible. The second one had been difficult, but successful, and he had gone home afterwards to sleep for the next ten hours. Now, he found himself shuffling into the bar near closing time, hoping for a sense of normalcy.

The bar was slow for for a Friday, and the few people left were heading out, obviously buzzed from booze and good music. 

Scotty was wiping down the bar and humming a song he didn’t recognize. 

“Hey, Monty.”  Scott looked up and grinned. 

“Well if it isn’t the Good Doctor! We were wondering when you’d show up again. You look like you need a drink, lad.” Len would never stop being grateful for the Scot’s ability to know exactly when someone needed a drink. 

“Yeah, rough day at work on Wednesday.”

“Sorry to hear that. Why don’t you take a seat. I’ll bring you something before I finish cleaning up.” 

Len nodded his thanks and took his usual place to the left of the stage. Jim was behind an amp, cursing and fiddling with some wires. 

“You tell it who’s boss, kid.” The blond jumped almost a foot.

“Shit, Bones. When did you get here?”

“‘Bout five minutes ago.” 

Scotty set down a tumbler with a few fingers of dark amber liquid. 

“Enjoy it, McCoy. It’s better than a Yank like you deserves.” 

Len scowled and reached for the drink. “I am _not_ a Yankee.” 

“You’re American aren’t ya?” 

“I’m also a Southerner. Don’t insult me.” 

Monty laughed and shook his head. “Just drink the damn scotch, McCoy.” 

Len raised the glass and took a sip. Scotty was right. Monty grinned and went back to finish cleaning up the bar. 

“So where have you been?” Jim had stopped messing with the amp and sat on the edge of the stage, feet kicking against it lightly. He was wearing green converses and Len had to physically stop himself from snorting when he realized Jim’s nail polish matched them.

“I had a bad week at work.” He took another drink of the scotch hoping that Jim would drop the subject, but had no such luck.

“What happened?” There was a crease between the singer’s eyebrows.

“I lost someone on the table.” Leonard was surprised by how quiet his voice was. Usually, he didn’t talk about work, so he wasn’t really expecting it to come out as timid as it had. 

“Shit, Bones. I’m sorry.” 

The doctor gave a one-shouldered shrug and set his glass down. Jim shifted uncomfortably and Len rolled his eyes.

“Don’t pander to me, kid. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me just because I had a shit week.” The comment made Jim look even more uncomfortable than he did before. 

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t want to make this about me, I mean this is obviously upsetting for you and—”

“Jim, just spit it out. I asked, so answer.” 

Jim winced and Len could have sworn he saw the start of a blush on the kid’s cheeks. 

“I thought you hadn’t come back because I’m gay.” 

Shit. He hadn’t even realized that he had not spoken to Jim since the night his friend Janice had been singing. If he were Jim, he probably would have jumped to the same conclusion. 

“I’m pretty sure I also called you my friend that night.” 

Jim was definitely blushing this time. 

“Yeah, but it’s hard not to think about it. Some people pretend to be okay with it when they aren’t.”

“I have bigger things to worry about than where you stick your dick, Jim. I for one don’t think it’s a sin to know who you enjoy having sex with.”

Jim snorted. “That reminds me. Remember when I told you I was writing a song? I finished it up, want to hear it?” And just like that the tension was gone and Jim wasn’t worried about Bones up and leaving. 

Len couldn’t help but wonder what had given the younger man that kind of insecurity in the first place. “Sure.”

“Awesome. Give me two minutes.” 

It was more like four, but Len wasn’t going to bother Jim about it. Much.

Once the singer had everything set back up, he gave his friend a quick rundown. 

“So when I first met you, you said something about being an outsider and standing your ground and uh, well...” He gave Len a sheepish grin. “It just kind of sparked this.” 

_Shortfalls and little sins_

_Close calls where no one wins_

_Stand tall but running thin_

_I'm wearing thin_

_Oh, why are we keeping score?_

 

_'Cause if you're not laughing_

_Who is laughing now?_

_I've been wondering if we start sinking_

_Could we stand our ground?_

_And through everything we've learned_

_We've finally come to terms_

_We are the outsiders_

_We are the outsiders_

 

_I'm not leaving without a fight_

_I've got my holster around my side_

_Just 'cause I'm wrong it don't make you right_

_No, you ain't right_

_Oh, why are we keeping score?_

_On the outside, you're free to roam_

_On the outside, we've found a home_

_On the outside, there's more to see_

_On the outside, we choose to be_

 

Jim’s voice faded off as the song came to an end. Bones was staring at him, brow furrowed and lips just barely parted. It wasn’t quite like anything he had heard Jim sing before. 

“Where the hell did you even come from, kid?” The more time he spent with Jim, the more he realized that this blond-haired whirlwind of smiles and songs had a lot more going on than he let anyone believe. There was a story there that Len knew he hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface of. 

Jim gave him a bitter smile. “Nowhere interesting.” 

Bones didn’t believe him for a second. 

\-------------------------------------------

 

Most people can’t remember much from the early years of their life and Jim was no exception. The memories he had of his father were of large, gentle hands and a rolling laugh that flowed over them as he spun Sam and Jim around the room, much to their squealing delight. He could recall the shiny badge that reflected back his fingertips as he traced over the word ‘ _Officer.’_ George was little more than a backlit face in childhood memories, but Jim could remember eyes that crinkled like his and strong fingers that brushed his hair back every night before bed.  

George Kirk had been a good father. He was also a good man, and in the end, that had been his downfall. When it came down to the wire and George Kirk had to choose between going home and tucking his sons into bed and going after a man who had already taken twenty lives, he dove into the fray. Jim liked to think that his father had done so with the idea of keeping other people from losing their own sons and fathers, and though he would never know it, Jim was right. Jim would never know that George’s last thoughts were on the two little blond boys he was leaving behind and how he hoped they would forgive him for not coming home on time. He thought of the eight year-old with the baseball game that weekend. He thought of the strong, sharp woman that would be waiting for him to crawl into her arms that night. He thought of the four year-old who had fallen asleep on his shoulder only six hours before. George Kirk thought of his family.

Which was why he didn’t make it home that night. 

Then again, neither did Nero.

\-------------------------------------------

Winona wasn’t a bad mother. 

She loved her sons deeply and purely like only a parent could, but she was also a woman of action. When combined, she tended to come out more strict and less loving, but there was never a doubt in Jim’s mind that his mother cared for them. He also had no illusions that his mother was ever going to be the one to coddle them. She was too practical for that.

As the years went on, Winona became harder, more determined to have her sons be prepared for the heartache that was life. She pushed them to take care of themselves. There were no excuses for inaction in the Kirk household and both boys knew better than to try and make any. A failed test, a broken toy, lying, all of them were met with the same disapproving look. They were all addressed with a shamed promise to do better. 

By the time Sam was thirteen and Jim was nine, Winona was getting calls to start traveling for lectures again, something she had refused to do in the five years since George died. She had no qualms leaving the boys alone for the few hours between the end of the school day and closing the research center, but the lecture tours would take days, if not weeks at a time. She agreed, but only during the summers. Summers meant that Sam and Jim could stay with her sister in California. 

They spent their first summer in California the year Jim turned ten. The intoxication of some place new stole Jim’s heart away just as easily as Gaila’s passion for mischief did. Sam rolled his eyes at their childish antics, but Jim and Gaila found a strong friendship in what was once a vague idea of a cousin somewhere halfway across the country. 

Los Angeles held Jim’s sweetest childhood memories. The bustle, the lights, the constant thrum of movement underneath the heat of the California sun, it all seemed to move through his veins in a way that the soft summer nights of Iowa never did. He fell in love hard and fast with the dry heat and azure blue skies. And that was all before he set foot in the ocean for the first time. 

At the age of ten, standing in the rolling edges of waves, feeling like he was flying backwards as the water pulled the sand out from under his feet, that was when Jim made up his mind: California was home. 

\-------------------------------------------

California quickly became the symbol of sanctuary and progress for Jim Kirk. 

It was where he met Spock, the serious-faced boy who would become his best friend. It was where Spock introduced him to chess. 

For once in his life, someone else understood the need to focus on something to get his head to stop running through thoughts like they were going out of style.

(It was also where he got his first piercing, but that didn’t happen until he was 16. Winona had laughed, and tugged on his ear softly, telling Jim it suited him. She also made it clear that he wasn’t allowed to get anymore before he was 18. Though, she would just sigh every time he came home with a new one.)

At eleven years-old, California was the first place he played the piano and where Jim fell in love with music. 

\-------------------------------------------

California was where Jim longed to run to when Winona introduced them to Frank. Suddenly, she was able to take longer trips during the year, because Frank was there to watch her boys. Jim hated him for it. He hated Winona a little bit for it, too. 

Frank’s words were cruel. He demanded the best and expected the worst from the boys. Jim remembered his hands being so sore from cleaning and re-cleaning the kitchen floors that he couldn’t practice piano for a week. He remembered the bright blue cast around Sam’s forearm from the fall down the stairs when Frank insisted he was lazy for not carrying all three of the heavy boxes they were moving. 

All they did was try harder to do better.

There was no room for excuses in the Kirk household.

\-------------------------------------------

Winona didn’t understand why Sam left without a word the night after his graduation. She didn’t understand Jim’s sad, knowing look. All Winona understood was the heartache of her eldest son walking out of her life without even a note. She could have understood Jim’s anger at being abandoned by his only brother. 

She didn’t understand why Jim had driven his father’s car off the nearest canyon cliff. She didn’t understand Jim’s pained tears and refusal to come back into the house. 

\---------------------------------------------

Jim had his first kiss with a girl name Emily at the school dance at 13. She was sweet with a wide smile and brown eyes. She made him blush. 

Jim kissed a boy for the first time at 15. Gary was strong, with a crooked smile and eyes almost as blue as Jim’s. He made Jim’s heart race and his breath catch. 

Frank saw Jim kiss another boy only once. Jim was sixteen and Gary was leaving for college. Gary was thrown against the wall and Frank landed twelve strong blows to Jim’s torso, and three to his face, before the police showed up. 

Winona poured all her fear, hurt, and anger into the divorce and putting Frank behind bars. She finally understood Jim’s tears when Sam left. He hadn’t been crying because he lost his brother. He had been crying because Sam hadn’t taken Jim with him. 

In her drive to find justice, she became lost in her anger. Winona became the determined, distant woman she had been right after George’s death. 

She forgot to comfort the son she was protecting. 

\---------------------------------------------

Jim moved to California at 17.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song this chapter is "The Outsiders" by Needtobreathe


	4. All My Friends Say

** Chapter 4 - All My Friends Say **

 

More often than not, Jim and Len would end up spending time together incidentally. Len would be tagging along with Nyota to the club when Jim was playing or Jim would be begging coffee off his cousin when Len was coming in to get his own. They would be part of a group going out for dinner as a mid-week reward or be laughing with Scotty, Gaila, and a few of their friends at a movie night in the cafe. Usually, on those nights, they would be the last ones to leave, caught up in talking and making fun of each other. 

Once they bumped into each other at two am at the 7-11. 

“Okay, I know why I’m up this late, but isn’t it past your bedtime, kid?” Len had a large coffee in one hand and shopping basket with a breakfast burrito and shaving cream in the other. Jim was eyeing the basket with mild concern. 

“I have a pretty fucked up sleeping schedule.” Jim shrugged, tossing the bottle of diet coke from one hand to the other. “Do you usually schedule brain surgery in the wee hours of the morning?”

Len blinked at him stupidly for a few moments before scowling. 

“I’m on call for emergency situations. There was a car crash around seven and I just got out of surgery an hour ago. The idiot will live to tell his children’s children about the time he almost got himself killed because he was high out of his mind and tried to pass on a double yellow.” He was surprised to find Jim grinning at him. “What are you smilin’ at me like that for?” 

“He deserved to be in that crash and you saved him anyway.” 

McCoy’s eyebrows shot up so fast Jim was legitimately worried that they may not come down again.

“Of _course_ I saved him. The man was being impatient and stupid, that doesn’t mean he deserves to _die._ ” The doctor tried to keep the absolute horror out of his statement, but he wasn’t sure how successful he was. Jim was still grinning though and throwing him a casual shrug. 

“Not everyone would think that way.”

“Thank fuck not everyone gets to practice medicine then.” 

Jim’s grin faded to a fond smile. 

“You should probably get to bed, Bones.” He patted the man’s shoulder as he walked by, and Len couldn’t help but notice a patch of deep blues and purples peaking out of the cuff of the singer’s shirt. He was forcibly reminded of Scotty’s comment on the first night he had met Jim, almost four months ago. _You should see his tattoos sometime._

\-------------------------------------------

“What tattoos does Jim have?” Len was sipping at a beer across the table from Scotty. The man paused with his own glass to his lips. His eyes narrowed and he slowly put the glass down.

“You have a crush on my cousin-in-law, lad?” The Scot was watching Len carefully, leaning forward and leveling a serious gaze at him. Len’s heart skipped a beat, but his face remained skeptically unamused. 

“I asked what tattoos he had Scotty, not if he had his dick pierced.” 

Scotty snorted and sat back in chair with a grin. “I can’t even remember anymore. Jim’s been getting inked up since the day he turned 18 and he got a load of them covered up with others at some point or another. Seems like his skin is a different color every time I see him.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. 

“How often did you see him before now?” 

Scott got uncharacteristically quiet.

“Oh you know, every two years or so. It’s a long trip from Iowa.” He managed to keep the topic of conversation off Jim for the rest of the night. It only made Len want to know what Jim’s story was even more. 

\-------------------------------------------

“So have you seen Jim’s tattoos?” he asked offhandedly while he and Nyota were driving to a club in Hollywood. They had been chatting about music, eventually turning to how people wore their genre like a style. 

“Once, when we had a threesome.”

Bones hummed interestedly before the comment truly set in.

“Wait, _what?!_ “ He turned to look at her so fast that he actually cricked his neck. She was already cackling. 

“I was wondering if you were as distracted as you seemed. I know he has them on his arms, but he’s almost always wearing long sleeves. He was flailing around on Gaila’s couch once and his shirt rode up so I could see part of the one he has on his ribs. It’s black but I couldn’t really see what it was.” She bit her lip as she thought. “He, uh- he’s pretty private really. A lot of bravado, but not much punch.”

Len nodded slowly.

“He seems a lot smarter than he lets on. Acts like a kid but...” he struggled to find words. 

“But none of the innocence left.” It wasn’t a question. Ny was looking straight ahead, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “He’s brilliant. Really truly genius level intelligence.”

Bones couldn’t help but scoff.

“He texted me yesterday to ask if flour could go bad.” 

“He _regularly_ beats Spock at chess.” 

Len was floored. He’d played Spock only once, during a Christmas party. Len was no slouch and Spock had beaten him in ten minutes flat.

“Spock also happens to be his best friend. Jim knew him before I did.” 

“Jesus Christ. How does that even work?”

Nyota chucked. 

“Len, if you ever manage to figure that out, please let me know.” 

\-------------------------------------------

“What the hell is your cousin’s story?” 

McCoy was starting to reach the end of his rope. After knowing the kid for half a year, he had more questions than answers. He knew that Jim bussed tables at the cafe two streets down during the week. He knew that apples were Jim’s favorite food. He knew that the kid might as well be allergic to air for all the shit he couldn’t eat and medications he couldn’t take. He knew that Jim could move his hips in a way that shouldn’t be allowed to be called dancing. (That one kept Len up at night sometimes. He tried not to think too hard about it). He knew that Jim licked his lips when he was thinking and that the singer tended to hum ‘La Mer’ when he was fiddling with something. 

He _didn’t_ know where Jim grew up. Or what the kid was doing before he moved to San Francisco seven months ago. He didn’t know how someone with more metal in their face than a pre-teen with an overbite managed to befriend someone as stiff as Spock Grayson. And he sure has hell didn’t know what shape the ink on Jim’s skin took. He hadn’t even seen the blond’s arms and it was driving him up the wall.

Gaila blinked at him, her soft pink lips in a little “o” as her eyebrows climbed higher and higher. Eventually, they stopped and she bit her lips together, obviously trying not to laugh. 

“Have you ever thought to maybe, oh... I don’t know. Ask him?” 

Leonard scowled and took the drink she had set on the bar for him. He turned back to the stage where the blond was bent over his guitar. His eyes were half closed and the stage lights were glinting off his eyebrow piercing. He licked his lips, knocking his tongue against the inside of his labret piercing once he had closed his mouth again. He let out a quick breath and started to pick at the strings, building the sounds until finally the tune steadied and the song broke over his lips. 

_Well I heard there was a secret chord_

_that David played and it pleased the Lord_

_But you don't really care for music, do you?_

_Well it goes like this:_

_The fourth, the fifth,_

_The minor fall and the major lift_

_The baffled king composing Hallelujah_

 

_Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah…_

 

Len’s breath caught in his throat. He swallowed hard and gripped the glass dangerously tight. Jim sung funny songs, sweet songs, upbeat songs, and sometimes even sad songs, but always country and never like this. Never this broken kind of melody. The song had always managed to leave Len feeling a little life-worn, but when it came out of Jim’s mouth, when it came from someone who had lived the emotion the notes invoked, it left him feeling downright empty.

 

_Maybe there's a God above_

_But all I've ever learned from love_

_Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you_

_And it's not a cry that you hear at night_

_It's not somebody who's seen the light_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

 

_Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah..._

_Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah…_

 

No one dared clap as the song came to an end, afraid to break the fragile air. Jim simply packed up his instrument and walked offstage. McCoy looked back at Gaila searchingly. She wasn’t smiling anymore, but the look in her eyes was tender. 

 

“He’s hurting tonight.” She offered as an explanation. “That song means a lot to him, I don’t think he’s ever really been in love, but something about it resonates in him. Helps him through the hard times.” 

 

“What were the hard times, Gaila?” 

“Len, honey, that’s something you’re going to have to ask him about.” 

\-------------------------------------------

“I have already spoken to Nyota and I will not answer any questions you have about Jim.” Spock was regarding Len with a straight faced expression. “He is my friend and I will not betray his trust as such just to satisfy your curiosity. If you wish to find out how he has lived his life until this point, then I suggest you gather your courage and speak with him.” 

Len’s mouth snapped shut and he turned on his heel. Like hell he was going to let that sociopathic ass call him a coward.

\-------------------------------------------

“Bones!” Jim answered the door, pleased surprise written across his face. “How the hell do you know where I live?”

“I may or may not have bribed Scotty with a bottle of my best bourbon for your address.” He stepped inside when Jim moved out of the way to let him. 

“You could have just asked, you know.” Jim’s eyes crinkled as he snickered at his friend. 

“Nyota said you’re private, I figured I’d wait until you invited me.” He shrugged. 

“This is not waiting, Bones.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve never been very patient.” 

Jim snorted and closed the door behind them. He padded through the small hallway that lead into the apartment. It was simple: a bathroom to the right, a small kitchen to the left, a living room with a balcony outside, and the bedroom sharing that balcony off to the right. The tour of it took all of two minutes. 

“So what brings you here, Bonesy?” 

“God, kid if you have to call me something then do it, but please don’t call me that.” He grimaced and sat on the couch that was along the left wall of the living room. “I realized that I’ve known you for six months and I have no idea who you are.”

Jim was still standing, hands shoved into the pockets of his favorite jeans. The ones Bones met him in. The doctor realized he was becoming strangely attached to Jim wearing those jeans. The singer was looking at him with those stupidly intense blue eyes. When Len didn’t offer up anything else Jim spoke.

“Well, for one, my name is James Kirk.” 

“Oh, well, good. It was starting to get awkward just calling you ‘kid’ all the time,” he drawled. 

Jim grinned and flopped down onto a large squishy armchair. It was a deep red and screamed ‘Jim.’  “James Tiberius Kirk.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I am not and my Grandpa Tiberius would be very offended that you think so.”

“Probably not anymore offended than my Granddaddy Horatio.” 

Jim burst out laughing, his eyes squeezing shut and his shoulders thrown back.

It was then Len realized that Jim’s shirt was entirely unbuttoned, the singer’s toned chest and soft-looking stomach completely exposed for Len to see. He could see the hint of something black along Jim’s ribs on the right side. It looked like the outline of his rib cage itself. He could probably figure out what it was if he wasn’t so damned distracted by the idiot’s chest. 

“Leonard Horatio McCoy?!” Jim’s mouth was wide open in laughter. “What did you do to your mother while you were in the womb?!” 

Len grumbled something about it being a family name. 

“My daddy’s middle name is Leonard. I’m just grateful I’m not a David Junior.” He rolled his eyes and propped his feet up on the coffee table between them. He looked around the apartment some more as Jim tried to calm himself down. The walls were pretty sparse. There was a print of Van Gogh's ‘Irises’ across from the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the living room and a TV mounted to the wall across from the couch, but that was all. The coffee table only had the TV remote on it and some sheet music. He could see the kitchen counters seemed to have a microwave and a set of knives, but if there was anything else, it was tucked away out of sight. 

For some reason he didn’t think Jim would be so...neat.

“Wait. David. David McCoy as in-”

“Governor David McCoy? Yeah.” 

Jim went quiet for a few seconds, licking his lips. 

“He’s uh, pretty conservative isn’t he?” He looked apprehensive about the subject but unable to keep from asking. Len huffed a laugh and gave Jim a lopsided grin.

“That’s a kind way to describe it.” 

Jim smiled and relaxed.

“I have an idea. Why don’t we do something like twenty questions? One for one. Get to know each other better.”

“Sounds like the start of a bad date.” Jim winked and folded his legs up under him. “Okay. You first.” 

Len twisted the ring on his pinky finger while he thought. 

“How many tattoos do you have?” 

Jim laughed again.

“Really? No asking me how I lost my virginity or who my first kiss was? This is a terrible slumber party.” 

Len rolled his eyes. “Answer the question, kid.”

“Five. How many do you have?”

“Zip.” 

Jim looked skeptical. 

“Seriously? Not even one?” 

“Not even one.  Do I get to ask you two questions now because you asked me three?”

“No, because you just asked me one.” Jim grinned and ran a hand through his hair, brushing it away from his face. Len laughed. The easy banter was nice. They went back and forth for a while, asking and answering. They covered pretty shallow ground to begin with. Favorite TV shows, favorite subject in school, best subject in school, first stupid thing they could really remember doing. (“You’re kidding right?” “Nope, drove it off a cliff, almost went with it too.”) 

“Name of your first kiss?”

“Emily. Name of your first fuck?”

“Jocelyn.”

“Pretty name, how long did it last?”

“Ten years, give or take a few months.” 

Jim’s eyes widened. Len couldn’t help but smirk at the shock on his friend’s face. 

“That was payback for the gay thing wasn’t it?”

“Nah, I just like freaking you out.” Len took a sip of the soda Jim had gotten them both about half an hour before. He had only been there for about forty minutes, but it was getting dark and he was starting to worry he was overstaying his welcome. “Well, should probably get going.” 

Jim actually looked disappointed. 

“You have work tomorrow?” Len shook his head. “Then fuck that! You’re staying here, you can’t just leave me with ‘Oh yeah, by the way, I was in a ten year relationship with my first time.’” The kid actually looked offended that Len had even thought about leaving.

“Fine, fine.” He shifted and sank further into the couch. Jim had managed to bring one knee up under his chin at some point, wrapping his arms around it while his other knee splayed out to the side. It was a cute picture and Len committed it to memory for when he needed a smile. “What’s your biggest regret?” 

Jim’s mouth got a little tight and Len could see him swallow.

“Spock finding me.” He didn’t offer any elaboration and the doctor felt he knew better than to ask. “What’s the worst thing anyone has ever said to you?” 

“Smile like you mean it. My Daddy would say it any time he thought I wasn’t trying hard enough.” Len powered through to the next question, not getting Jim time to linger on the confession. “Biggest dream?”

“Singing for a living instead of bussing tables and singing on the weekends. What’s your best and worst memory?” They were answering and asking in a kind of rush. Almost afraid that one of them would stop if they were given too much time.

“Worst is realizing my Daddy would rather me be miserable as long as I _acted_ happy when I was 18. Best is holding my daughter for the first time. Yours?” 

“Sitting with my Mom in a field as she pointed out constellations to me and my brother. Waking up in the hospital. Worst thing you ever did?”

“Married a woman because my father didn’t want me to be gay. You?”

“Overdosing where my best friend could find me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen as sung by Jeff Buckley.


	5. Why Do I Keep Counting?

**Chapter 5 - Why Do I Keep Counting?**

Jim raised the cigarette to his lips with shaking hands. It was too much – _too fucking much_ – and he had no idea how to handle it right now. With a deep breath, he let his head drop to his hands, tugging roughly at his hair to make himself not bite down on the cigarette filter. The smoke curled up around his head, masking the sharp smell of fear pouring off of him. This was his life. This was the life of 21 year-old James Tiberius Kirk. Stinking of fear, cigarettes, and failure. 

He’d tried, really, he had. He’d gone two months without a hit and now, he could feel it tearing him apart. Forget his body. He didn’t care about the shaking, the nausea, the constant sweating and runny nose. Those had stopped weeks ago. He still dealt with the aches and the sleeplessness, but those weren’t any worse than before he started using. No, those weren’t what made Jim’s chest ache with need. That was his head. 

His head. 

His fucking brain.

It wouldn’t shut up. It was screaming at him again, just like it had before and no matter what he did, it just kept reeling like he would die if it stopped. 

Swallowing hard, Jim lifted his head and took one last long draw from the cigarette before stubbing it out on the asphalt below him. 

One more. Just one more. Just to get his head on straight again. 

\---------------------------------------------

“His results might as well be off the charts, Winona.” 

Jim sat outside counselor Helms’s office with the vague indifference of any seventeen-year-old, his head leaning back against the wall and his fingers drumming absently on his thighs. The door was closed, but by no means soundproof. Jim got to hear every word they didn’t want him to. 

Helms continued.

“But if he doesn’t get his act together he’s not even going to graduate. He skips classes, he just refuses to do any work or tests. I know Jim’s smart, but he could use a little more of his father’s work ethic.” 

Jim sneered at the comment. Of course it always came back down to this, didn’t it? Be more like George. 

Winona didn’t say anything when she came out of the office. She didn’t say anything on the way home. She didn’t say anything at dinner, or the next day, or the next week. 

Jim watched her leave for work without saying so much as good morning for the 10th day in a row. He had started to wonder if his mother even realized he was still there. 

He left a note on her bedside and hightailed it to California. 

Winona never called. 

\---------------------------------------------

It had been nearly a year since he left Riverside and the only thing Jim missed even remotely was his piano.

He hadn’t had the space or the money for a new one when he first moved out. He only had $1500 to his name and most of that had gone to Gaila when she said he could stay in her off-campus apartment. She had insisted it wasn’t necessary, but Jim wasn’t about to be a freeloader. She took the money and Jim got a job bussing tables. Soon enough he was making twice the money in tips as a waiter. After a year he had enough saved up that he could finally spend the $2000 dollars on the keyboard he had chosen the second week he’d moved out. 

He grinned as he walked into the music store he’d visited at least twice a month for the last year. The owner smiled at him. 

“Today the day, Jimmy?” She waved vaguely to the area where the keyboards were displayed. Jim was already halfway there.

“Yep!” He smiled wider as he caught sight of the sleek, black keyboard that had held his attention for so long. Just as he was about to take the last five steps, he was distracted. The store layout had changed just a bit – the guitars had moved around and there was a new one was set proudly on display, the focus of the spotlights. 

“What’s that?” 

“Hm?” The owner looked up from where she was restringing a violin. “Oh! That’s our new Martin. Big leaf maple body, ebony fingerboard and bridge, acoustic-electric. Pretty, isn’t she?” 

Jim nodded slowly as he reached out to drag his fingertips down the smooth, dark wood of the Martin. It was slightly warm and something twisted in Jim’s chest. There were tiny mother of pearl compass roses inlaid in the dark word of the fretboard.

“How much is it?” Jim couldn’t tear his eyes away from the curves of the cutaway guitar. Suddenly the piano seemed trivial. 

“$3500.” His heart sank. It had taken him a year to save up for the keyboard. 

“I uh…” he hesitated, shooting a quick glance toward the piano displays. “I’ll be back soon.” He ran out of the store without giving her a chance to respond.

It wasn’t quite as easy to escape from Gaila just a few hours later. She wouldn’t leave him alone until he confessed what was wrong. As Jim lamented the cost of the guitar, Galia watched him thoughtfully. She was only two years older than Jim, but she hadn’t cut herself off from her family and wasn’t suffering the same money problems. 

“Well...I could loan you about $300.” She offered tentatively. “If you’re really that serious about it.” 

“Great. Only need 1,100 more to go.” Jim groaned and threw his head into his arms on the table. “Why do I fall so hard and fast?” Gaila snickered and shook her head. Once her curls had stopped bouncing she kicked Jim lightly under the table.

“So, about that $1000 dollars you insisted I take when you moved in?”

“Yeah…” 

“I never actually used it. It’s just sitting in a bank account for you. So really, you’re only about $200 away.” 

Jim had never hugged Gaila harder in his life. 

Only a month later, he was clutching to the hardcase of his new guitar. 

\---------------------------------------------

The guitar took the brunt of Jim’s whirling mind. He poured his heart and soul into those stiff strings, working up callouses on soft fingertips until he could play for hours without feeling the indents of nylon on them. Soon he started playing open mic nights at a few local bars, just once or twice a week, but enough so that he was starting to get noticed on the local scene. 

That’s how he met Mudd. 

“You put a lot into your songs, man.” The overweight man nodded to Jim’s guitar. Jim shrugged and ran his hand along the side of the guitar nervously. 

“Keeps my head quiet, ya know?” Mudd nodded his understanding, but there was an edge in his eyes that made Jim nervous. 

“I know how that goes. Got something that helps though, when things start moving too fast.”

“Yeah?” Jim tilted his head in interested. His head had been running hot and cigarettes weren’t cutting it. He could use a little pot to bring it down to just a few hundred miles an hour. When Mudd pulled out the small bag of brown powder, Jim balked at the sight. “Fuck off, man. I’m not interested.” 

Mudd just shrugged and gave him a smarmy grin. 

“Let me know if you change your mind. Nothing quites the world like a little brown.” 

It took a month, but eventually Jim got low enough, got high strung enough, to take a hit. Just one. Just to get his head on straight. 

He was only 18 when that first hit brought him to the ground, slow and easy. 

\---------------------------------------------

At nineteen, Jim’s occasional use had become a habit. Long before he was twenty, it was an addiction. 

“I’m telling you, Jim. I could get you a deal easy.” Nyota was leaning across the back of Spock’s couch with a wide grin. She had wormed her way into Spock’s life almost a year ago and, loath as he was to admit it, Jim adored how well she balanced out his best friend. “All you need to do is play for my boss.” 

Jim swallowed hard, trying to focus on the conversation at hand and not the itch under his skin. “You really think so?”

“I doubt she would risk her own reputation if she did not mean it, Jim.” Spock peered up from his book. He was leaning against the arm of the couch, seemingly unbothered by Ny using his legs to kneel on. “You have not been as focused on your music lately, but there is no doubt that your talent prevails.” From anyone else that would have been a judgement; from Spock it was pure concern. He’d noticed that Jim had been edgy and that was a problem. 

“Do you want me to get you a meeting with Chris?” Nyota’s smile was bright and hopeful. Jim swallowed and flicked his tongue across his labret. He’d have to quit if he wanted this to work. He’d have to get clean if he was going to do this. 

“Yeah,” he said slowly. Suddenly he was more sure of this than he had been of anything. “Yeah, Ny. That’d be great.” He couldn’t help but return her grin. The next day he had a date set for his audition. Just two short months and Jim would set his dream into motion. 

\---------------------------------------------

Too much. It had been too much and now it was just so calm. He was so calm. All he needed to do was close his eyes. Just for a little while. Just to get his head on straight again. 

There was yelling. He could hear it somewhere. Someone was calling his name. There was something strange about the it, not the actually screaming, but the sound of it. He decided it was the voice. Screaming sounded all wrong from that voice. That voice never yelled.

Why was Spock yelling?

\---------------------------------------------

Jim woke up on his fifth day in the hospital with a miserable groan. It was the first time he hadn’t been surrounded by doctors and Gaila’s worried hands. Jim kept his eyes closed, hoping to fall back asleep before someone tried to ask him any more questions.

“Jim…?” Spock’s steady baritone was close by. He pried his eyes open and let his head fall to the side Spock’s voice had come from. The other man’s face was drawn and there were dark circles under his eyes that Jim couldn’t remember seeing before. He tried to smile. 

“You finally get the number of the truck that ran me over?” His already struggling grin fell completely when Spock didn’t quirk an eyebrow like he normally did at Jim’s jokes. “That bad, huh?”

“You were dead.” Jim’s stomach dropped. Spock looked pained. “You were dead for two and half minutes, Jim.” Silence fell between them. Jim looked away, unable to meet his friend’s eyes. After a long minute Jim spoke.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Are you?” 

Jim didn’t respond. He heard Spock shift in the hard chair and dared a glance at him. Spock was watching him intently, hands clasped in his lap. It was the same position Spock took any time he was getting ready to start a serious conversion. 

“I have never been so frightened. The thought of you dying is…” Spock swallowed hard. “It is not an experience I wish to repeat.” 

“Spock you don’t have to─” 

“I do.” He waited for Jim to protest again, only continuing when he was sure he wouldn’t be interrupted. “I know that this was not as accidental as the doctors seem to believe. These last few years have been… difficult for you. I do not doubt that you did not intend to end up here when this first started, but I am afraid for you, Jim. I am afraid that you will keep putting yourself here until your heart refuses to restart.” 

Jim clenched his jaw and looked away again. He gripped the rough hospital sheets and pressed his tongue hard against the inside of his lip peircing. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the chipped nail polish on his fingers, but he knew Spock was still watching him with burning intensity. 

“You are a bright point in this world, Jim. A valued friend and brother to me and everyone you have touched. We need you here. I need you here.” Spock’s voice had grown soft and Jim could hear just the faintest waver in it. “Please do not take yourself away from us. We would never recover from such a loss.” 

Jim didn’t believe Spock, not for a long time, despite all of the support and concern his friends showed him. It wasn’t until he was wandering around the Santa Monica Pier, looking for a distraction, that he realized just how much he stood to lose. All it took was a street performer.

Most people walked by the man without a second glance, but a few had stopped to listen to him strum on his worn guitar. Jim paused, always ready to take music as a distraction. The man’s voice was like gravel and salt water, rasping over the notes in an almost broken way, the low pitch hitting Jim square in the stomach. 

_They say there was a secret chord_

_That David played and it pleased the Lord_

_But you don’t really care for music do ya?_

 

Jim could feel his chest hollowing out in the middle of the crowded pier. People passed by him, unaware that his world was crashing down with the realization that had almost lost all of this. He almost lost the smell of the ocean, the freeing sound of music, the steady beat of his own heart. It had almost fallen through his fingers and the very thought was suddenly so enormous, so halting, that Jim couldn’t stop the tears from running down his face. 

He was _alive_. 

\---------------------------------------------

Both Jim and Len were breathing a little hard, they were leaning towards each other in their seats, hovering in that space between sitting and starting to stand. The questions had escalated to a point where neither of them knew what move to make next. They watched each other, looking flighty. 

“So uh, you’re gay then?” Of course Jim would be the one to break the tension. 

“Yeah. Spock found you after you overdosed?” Len’s voice was small in the room. Jim sighed and seemed to collapse back into his chair, caving in on himself, all tension leaving his body as pure exhaustion overtook him.

“Yeah.” 

Len sat back into the couch slowly. He had a niggling feeling that Jim had been involved in less-than-wholesome activities, but he never thought too hard about what it might have been. 

“You going to stop talking to me now?” Jim’s eyes were tired, his shoulders were slumped and he looked more resigned than Len’s mother had when she realized he wasn’t going to change his mind about the divorce. The words weren’t quite clicking in his head. 

“Why would I stop talking to you?”

“Because I was a junkie?” 

“Oh.” Len watched Jim’s face tighten after he said it. That was it, that was why Jim was always afraid of people jumping up and leaving him. No one wanted to stick around an addict. “Of course not.” 

The relief that flooded the other man’s face was one of the most comforting things Len had ever seen.

“Thanks, Bones.” 

“Nothing to thank me for, Jim. I’m your friend.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is "Hallelujah" By Leonard Cohen...again.


	6. Must Be Doin' Somethin' Right

**Chapter 6 - Must Be Doin’ Somethin’ Right**

 

After that night, things were a little more awkward for the two friends. They still met up and laughed and hung out with the others, but neither of them knew how to fall back into the easy friendship they had before. 

Len had left about 20 minutes after assuring Jim that he was his friend and both of them had gone to bed feeling a little closer to the other man, but more exhausted than they had been in a long time. Each wanted to know more about this person they had ended up sharing just a little too much with, yet neither of them knew how to bring that up. 

It wasn’t until they ended up alone at a pizza place that they finally did something about it. Nyota had a last minute appointment scheduled and had to cancel, meaning Spock didn’t come either. Gaila and Scotty had a pipe burst in the cafe and were running around with their hair on fire to get it fixed. 

So Jim and Len were sitting across from each other, sipping water and looking more at the large cheese pie in front of them than the person across the table.

“Well, this is awkward as shit.” Len snorted and set his glass down.

Jim started to laugh. “Yeah, I guess it is. So Bones, questions. You start.” 

Len smirked at him and took another piece of pizza, thinking his question over. The kid had told him a lot without meaning to already and he didn’t want to push too far, so he decided to take the coward’s way out. 

“I started last time. Your turn, kid.” 

Jim shrugged. “What’s your daughter’s name?” 

“Joanna.” Bones grinned. If there was something he could go on about for hours, it was his daughter. “She’s six. Got her Mama’s smile. Little blond whirlwind.” He took a bite of the pizza and thought for a bit. ‘Why you out here in LA?” 

They both knew that they were sticking to safer questions, but at least it was better than pretending nothing had happened. 

“I don’t have a whole lot of family. My, uh...” Jim took a quick sip of water, trying to calm his nerves. “My dad died, when I was a kid. So just my mom and brother. And an asshole step-dad. I grew up here, but uh. When I needed to get out, I would go to my aunt’s place. Mom’s sister, Gaila’s mom. So when things get tough, I always end up back here.” 

Jim picked apart the piece of pizza he had on his plate, pulling the crust off. 

“I went back to Iowa for rehab and to get back in touch with my mom, but I never really planned to stay there. Mom just kind of… drifted once we got older. I always wondered what my dad would think. I don’t remember much about him, but Sam always said he was a good guy.” 

“What happened to your dad?” 

Jim shifted nervously. “He was killed.” 

“Shit, I didn’t—”

“Nah, it’s fine, you didn’t know. He was killed in the line of duty. By Nero.” Jim took a few quick bites so he wouldn’t have to say anything else right away. It was always an awkward subject. People knew who Nero was, as as soon as they heard the name they made the connection with Jim. 

“Holy shit. Kirk.” 

“Yeah.” 

Len let an awkward silence fall over them. It wasn’t every day you found out your friend was the son of someone who took out a mass murderer twenty years ago. George Kirk had gone down fighting and he’d saved who knows how many lives doing it. He realized that was a little fact that had followed Jim around since he was—

And then Len realized something else. 

“How fucking old are you?” 

Jim dropped the crust he had been about to put in his mouth and stared at Len. It was a three second delay before he started laughing. 

“Twenty-four. I’m twenty-four.” He grinned and picked the crust back up, popping it into his mouth. “Legal in everything except car rental. Don’t worry, you can keep dreaming of me.” 

Len rolled his eyes.

“In _your_ dreams kid.”

Maybe in the doctor’s too. But Jim didn’t need to know that. 

\-------------------------------------------

It was a quiet night at the club.  Thursday nights typically were. Half of the time Scotty would end up playing recordings of their usuals, but Jim had the night off from the restaurant he bussed at, so he was playing. Bones had a long day at the hospital and needed a drink to steady his hands and his nerves. He found himself gravitating more and more towards where he thought Jim might be. 

The blond was sitting on the stage looking oddly muted. His button up shirt was gray, his pants and shoes black. He didn’t have nail polish on today and it made his hands look bare. 

“So I was talking to a friend and well, it just kind of got me thinking.” Jim gave a smile to Len that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Realized there were a lot of questions I had that I wouldn’t ever really get the answer to. So I thought, maybe I could try to answer them myself. Didn’t quite work out, but I did get something.”

When he started singing, the words were almost resigned. Describing the image of his family from what George might see now. To others, it might sounds like an upset husband, wishing he had his wife back. To Len, it sounded like a man who was so lost, desperately trying to find a father in the words. 

_Our boys are strong the spittin image of you when you were young_

_I hope someday they can see past what you have become_

_I remember every time I said I'd never leave_

_What I can't live with is memories of the way you used to be_

 

_The reasons that I can't stay don't have a thing to do with being in love_

_And I understand that lovin a man shouldn't have to be this rough_

_You ain't the only one who feels like this world left you far behind_

_I don't know why you gotta be angry all the time_

 

_Twenty years have came and went since I walked out of your door_

_I never quite made it back to the one I was before_

_And God it hurts me to think of you_

_For the light in your eyes was gone sometimes_

_I don't know why this old world can't leave well enough alone_

 

_The reasons that I can't stay don't have a thing to do with being in love_

_And I understand that lovin a man shouldn't have to be this rough_

_You ain't the only one who feels like this world left you far behind_

_I don't know why you gotta be angry all the time_

 

Jim finished the song to a smattering of applause. Len tilted his head in greeting when the blond padded over to his table. 

 

“Wanna head over to my place, kid? Pretty dead in here tonight.”

 

Jim looked grateful. “Yeah, sounds good.” 

\-------------------------------------------

Len’s house was spacious. Nothing that seemed surprising for a trust fund kid who became a neurosurgeon. Modern style furniture was placed carefully around the room. The kitchen was all stainless steel and state of the art. There were large windows exposing the room to lots of natural light and art placed thoughtfully on ledges and walls. In Jim’s opinion, not a single bit of it said “Leonard McCoy.”

The first time he had come here, he had almost been disappointed, figuring he had read the doctor wrong. He had expected dark, warm woods and soft lamp light. Not something that was almost as sterile as the hospitals Len spent most of his time in. He had almost been smug when he was led to the den where Len spent most of his time.

It was cozy, with soft clean chairs and a plush couch. The windows were nearly as big in this room as in the other – more natural light than lamps, but they weren’t the floor to ceiling ones that the rest of the house had. There was a bookshelf against one wall made of a dark cherry with a matching desk next to it. This was much more like what Jim had imagined Bones would have. 

The den was where they went next. Both fell back onto the couch and set their feet on the heavy coffee table in front of it. It was facing a wall mounted TV that Len turned on. 

“Whatta you wanna watch?” he asked as he flipped through the channels lazily. Usually they ended up watching some stupid sci-fi movie, but occasionally Jim would convince him to put on some kind of documentary. On those nights, Jim would recite the information before the announcer could, or scoff and elaborate on a comment. 

(“They say that because it makes it sound like we know what happened, but they really have no idea. The sample sizes for the tests were tiny and they couldn’t recreate the conditions in larger groups.” It would always take Bones by surprise, forcibly reminding him of Nyota’s comment about Jim being a genius.)

“I dunno.” Jim watched the shows flick by. “Something easy. It’s your turn by the way.” 

Len settled on an episode of Firefly, something they both knew by heart, so it wouldn’t distract them from their ongoing game of questions.

“Okay.” He set the remote down and pretended like he was trying to come up with something. Really he had known what question he was going to ask for the last three days. 

“What do your tattoos look like?” 

Jim yawned, scrunching up his nose and shaking his head. Apparently it had been a long day. 

“I don’t want to strip down right now so I’ll just show you my arms, okay?” He started to roll up the sleeve of his left arm. Len swallowed hard, half out of anticipation and half for absolutely not thinking about Jim stripping. Each turn of the gray sleeve revealed a little more of the dark purples and blues that Len had caught a glimpse of a few months ago. It was like nothing Len had seen in his limited experience of tattoos. It was space. Literally clouds of star dust and pinpoints of light that were the stars themselves. A sweep of blue, purple and magenta. It was beautiful. 

“It ends up spacing out into just stars by my shoulder. Most of the color is on my forearm, you know, to hide the scars.”  Jim held out his arm for Len to look at, the sleeve only rolled up to his elbow. He couldn’t see the marks on Jim’s arm that would have been left by the needles, but he supposed that was kind of the point. 

“You have it on both arms?” Len resisted the urge to sit on his hands so he wouldn’t reach out and touch the ink. He was suddenly extremely aware of the fact that this was the first time he and Jim had been here alone. Usually, there was at least one other member of their clique there.

“Nah, the other one is music.” Jim started to roll up the right sleeve. It was easier to see the defined muscles in this one. A music bar wrapped around his forearm, spiraling down to just about an inch above the base of his wrist. The notes danced up and down the stanzas playing out the music for the lyrics that were in a flowing, tidy script below them. 

This time Len did reach out. He traced his fingers along the lines of words, saying the refrain softly. 

“Hallelujah.” 

“Praise be to God.” Jim was watching Len’s face, an odd set to his mouth. The brunet quickly pulled his hand away, fighting a blush at the uninvited touch he had given. 

“Doesn’t seem like your kind of phrase, kid.” He rubbed his hand against the side of his thigh, as if the rough jean could remove the feeling of Jim’s skin from his fingertips. They were sitting so close, it wouldn’t take much from either of them to just lean forward, eliminating the remaining space between them, but neither of them moved.

“It’s not really, but the song... well, it strikes a chord in me. Can’t really explain it.”

“You don’t have to. I understand.” 

\-------------------------------------------

The next time they were both at the bar was nearly a week later. It wasn’t even open, but Len had wanted coffee and Gaila invited him to sit in the bar before she closed up the shop. It was an hour until showtime, but Len had to be at work in an hour and a half so he wouldn’t be able to stay. It was one of the nights he was working clinic duty. He didn’t really have to, but it was nice to get back down to the roots of his medical work sometimes. 

Jim was sound testing on the stage. Scotty yelled things at him from the sound booth, making it seem like there was a lot more fucking around going on than actual work. 

“Hey, Bones!” Jim grinned at him, ignoring a loud “To you too, you fucking wanker!” from Scotty. “I wrote a new song I’m going to play tonight.”

“I’ve gotta leave for work in a few, kid. I won’t be around.” 

Jim actually looked put out. He flicked his tongue across his lip piercing before shrugging casually. “I could play it for you now if you want.” 

Len rolled his eyes at Jim’s attempt to seem unconcerned. 

“Sure, Jim. Go for it.” He sat down at his usual table and sipped his coffee, waiting for Jim to start. 

The kid shot him a quick glance before starting. It almost seemed shy. Len tried not to smirk at the thought, giving his full attention to Jim’s voice. 

_I'm a high wire act, without a net_

_I'm a tips all in on a losing bet_

_I'm a minor chord on an old guitar_

_I'm one too many in a crowded bar_

 

_But don't you wanna fall_

_Don't you wanna fall_

_Fall down here where an angel should know better than_

_To walk around this world with me_

_All the girls love to talk about forever_

_From way up there the talk is always cheap_

_Don't you wanna fall_

_Don't you wanna fall_

 

_Fall down here where an angel should know better than_

_To walk around this world with me_

_All the girls love to talk about forever_

_From way up there the talk is always cheap_

_Don't you wanna fall_

_Baby don't you wanna fall_

 

Len was aware that his mouth was open, but for some reason he didn’t seem to remember how to close it. Jim looked up at him, a shy smile on his face. A smile pulled at the doctor’s mouth. He started to say something when his phone went off and his words were lost to a swear. 

 

He fished the phone out of this pocket and looked at the screen, only to scowl and shove it back into his pants. 

“It’s a great song. I gotta get to work, though. I’ll catch you later.” He shoved away from the table. 

Jim’s face fell as he spoke to Len’s back.

“Sure thing.” He said, even though it sure didn’t feel like it. 

\-------------------------------------------

Len pulled out his phone and hit redial. A southern drawl came out of the other line.

“Leonard. How nice of you to pick up.”

“Hey, Daddy.” He ignored the jab. “Did you need something?” 

David huffed. 

“I just wanted to make sure you’re coming to the dinner on Saturday. Everyone is expecting you.” 

Len winced. He had forgotten about the dinner and he sure as hell had no excuse not to go now. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” A thought hit him suddenly. “Mind if bring a friend?” 

“Of course not, Lenny. It’s good to hear you’re spending time with people.” The call ended and Len couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. His parents would be expecting another doctor, someone clean cut and sweet. They wouldn’t be expecting the stupidly charming and completely non-conservative Jim Kirk. 

\-------------------------------------------

 

Jim answered the knock at his door, surprised to see Bones standing in front of him.

“I have a _really_ big favor to ask you.” 

Jim stared at him for a long second before raising an eyebrow. 

“Hey, Jim, nice to see you. How was your night at the club? I really liked that song you sang for me. Awww, Bones you’re so sweet for thinking of it. I had a great night, thanks.” 

Len rolled his eyes and pushed past Jim into the apartment. Jim closed the door, then followed him into the living room. He leaned against the breakfast counter with crossed arms.

“I want you to come to a family dinner with me. I hate going more than I could ever tell you and having you there would make it a little bit more bearable.” Len looked at Jim, hazel eyes full of pleading hope. 

Jim couldn’t help but look a little skeptical. “Not that I’m saying no, because freaking out your parents sounds like all kinds of fun, but why me? You could just bring Scotty.” 

Len turned bright red, realizing he had left a rather crucial part of his reasoning out. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and smiled at Jim.

“Yeah but uh, I don’t really wanna fall with Scotty.” 

He felt like an idiot, but it was worth it to see the slow grin spread across Jim’s face. 

“What was that, Bones?” Jim’s grin was nearly taking up his entire face at this point.

“You heard me, you infant.” Len tried to sound angry but his own smile was threatening to take over his face. 

“I’m not sure I quite catch your meaning, Doctor.” 

“You are such a dick.” He took the few steps forward to put himself in Jim’s space. Jim raised an eyebrow and licked lips absently. 

“That doesn’t sound like you want me to go with you.” 

Len rolled his eyes and grabbed Jim by the front of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. It sent a spark of light down his spine and made his breath come up short. When he pulled away and looked into Jim’s wide blue eyes, he knew that the other man had felt the same thing.

“Want to freak out my parents on Saturday?”

“Fuck yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's songs are "Angry All The Time" by Tim McGraw and "Don't You Wanna Fall" by Frankie Ballard.


	7. Because Of You

**Chapter 7 - Because Of You**

 

“So uh, you grew up here?” Jim stared up at the house – no, _mansion –_ that was Leonard’s family home. 

“Nope. My childhood home is back in Georgia. This is the California house.”

“Right. Second home. Got it.” Jim blinked at the three story monster as they pulled up at the drive. “Your parents aren’t going to make me sleep outside are they?” 

Len laughed, but didn’t give him a yes or no, not leaving Jim wasn’t particularly reassured.

They were greeted by a woman with blond hair and collagen lips. She had the same hazel eyes as Len, but they weren’t nearly as earthy or warm.

“Lenny! Oh honey I’m so glad you could make it. I have a surprise for you.” She reached up and pinched his cheeks. Her wide smile faltered as her eyes slid over Jim. “Who’s this, Leonard?” 

Jim put on his most charming smile when Len introduced them.

“Ma, this is my friend, Jim. Jim, this is my mother, Eleanora McCoy.” 

Jim stuck out his hand. “It’s lovely to meet you Mrs. McCoy. Your home is truly magnificent.” 

Eleanor delicately put her hand in Jim’s and shook it. Her smile was plastered on and cold. 

“Oh bless your heart, aren’t you the kindest? You boys can go up to your rooms any time. Like I said Lenny, there’s a surprise for you in the drawing room.” With a quick turn and sharp clicking heels Mrs. McCoy disappeared down the hallway to the left of the foyer. Jim’s face fell as soon as she was out of sight. 

“Oh, bless your heart.” He mocked with a near perfect accent. “Jesus, Bones she hates me.” 

Len reached over and put a hand on the back of Jim’s neck. He dragged his thumb over of the dermal piercings. “Yeah, but I sure as hell don’t.” 

Jim fought a smile. “Think they’ll notice if we end up in the same room?” 

Len chuckled and led Jim up the stairs in the center of the room. Jim felt like they were the kind of stairs someone should only descend if they’re making a grand entrance. Going up them felt all kinds of wrong. 

“We can stay in the same room. If anyone notices they’ll keep their Southern-raised mouths shut. I’m a scandal enough as it is, being divorced. They’ll clam up until they get back on Georgian turf and then gossip their pretty little heads off.” 

“I like it when you get kinda twangy.” 

“Yeah well, don’t get used to it. It only happens at home or when I’m drunk.” Len took them into a room with a four poster bed and a reading window. “Welcome to home sweet home until tomorrow afternoon.” He spun around and grabbed Jim by the shoulders, kissing him soundly. “For courage. I have to go see what my mother left me in the drawing room.”

Jim laughed and pulled him back in for another kiss. “I’ll tag along. No way I’m staying up here by myself. A southern hag might descend on me and suck away my youth.” 

“Don’t talk about my mother that way, Jim.” They left the room snickering to themselves, chatting about how Jim’s appearance was going to turn everyone on their ears. Bones took them back down the stairs and in the same direction his mother had gone. They arrived at a large room with windows that reminded Jim of the doctor’s own home. There didn’t seem to be anything of note in the room at first, but a flurry of white lace and blond curls changed that.

“DADDY!” 

Bones’ eyebrows flew up. He stooped down and pulled the little girl into his arms. Sweeping her up onto his hip.

“Jojo! Heavens, girl!” He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. “Your Mama send you all the way out here to see me?”

“Yep! She said that Granddaddy and Grandmama wanted to see me, and that you’d be here for the weekend.” The little girl had a button nose and freckles kissed across her cheeks. Her hazel eyes matched Len’s. Len had told Jim that Joanna had her mother’s smile, but looking at the two now, matching toothy grins, he knew Len was wrong. 

Seeing that gruff man turn into excited smiles and singing eyes at the sight of his daughter pinpointed the moment Jim Kirk knew he was in love with Leonard McCoy. 

\-------------------------------------------

They spent the rest of the day with Joanna, who seemed to adore Jim on sight.

“Why do you have so much stuff on your face?”

“I put it there.”

“Why?”

“I like the way it looks.” 

Joanna narrowed her eyes at Jim and scrunched up her nose in thought. 

“I like the way it looks too.” 

Jim laughed and tapped her nose. “Good. Because I wouldn’t want to have to take them all out.” 

Len took the two of them around the grounds, showing off the gardens and stables. Jim was blown away by the finery, and was more than a little excited about the gigantic pool. 

Once the sun started to set Len let out a sigh. “I guess we should get ready to go face the dragon.” 

Joanna giggled behind her hand.

“Don’t you _ever_ tell her I said that.” Len swooped her up again and spun her around. “Or I’ll have Jim here sing at you. And he’s a _terrible_ singer.” 

“It’s true,” Jim nodded seriously, picking Jojo out of Len’s arms and settling her on his own hip. “I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. So you hafta stay quite.”

The little girl giggled but mimed zipping her lips with a forceful nod. “Promise.” 

They made their way back to the house to get ready and put Joanna to bed. Bones read her a story while Jim showered and they both gave her a kiss goodnight. For a fleeting moment Leonard worried about how easy it was to slip into this routine. Joanna hadn’t even known Jim for a day and she was already demanding goodnight kisses from the man. 

\-------------------------------------------

Dinner went twice as well as Leonard had expected. Despite Jim’s nice shirt and well cut trousers he still looked too edgy for the likes of Len’s family. There were a lot of snide comments about his appearance and attempts to go over Jim’s head with “knowledgeable” topics. 

The look on each person’s face when Jim could not only understand what they were saying, but _correct_ their information would leave Len smiling until the day he died. His great uncle Harry looked downright murderous when Jim pointed out that the town he claimed the family came from didn’t exist until _after_ the Civil War. Leonard’s second cousin Emma looked downright smitten with the man, much to her fiancé's dismay. Len spent all of dessert biting back laughter and kicking Jim under the table. Jim was in a heated discussion with his Cousin Eugene about the benefits of secondary research on something Len couldn’t even pronounce. The younger members of the family were impressed. The elders were pissed. Len felt like a kid in a candy shop. 

It wasn’t until after dinner that he started to worry that inviting Jim might have been a bad idea. 

The singer had gone upstairs, exhausted from a higher amount of social interaction than he was used to. Leonard was helping his mother and the kitchen staff clear the table. 

“Leonard. May I speak to you in my office?” 

And just like that his good mood went to shit. When David McCoy called you into his office, there was no leaving in a good mood. The office was reserved for berating under the guise of fatherly concern. Len handed the stack of plates he was holding off to one of staff and followed his father out of the room. No matter how old he got, it always felt like being called to the principal's office. It made him want to fidget and look down at his feet. 

“Yes?” 

“I assumed that you’d be inviting a friend from the hospital.” David McCoy was a handsome man with dark brown eyes and a distinguished touch of gray at his temples. He looked every part the upstanding politician with a square jaw, sharply cut suit and blunt, steady hands. “This… Mr. Kirk, doesn’t seem to be the best for your image.” 

Len gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. 

“Jim’s a good friend, Daddy. He’s an extremely intelligent man.”

David regarded his son with a disturbingly calm expression. 

“Don’t let him get in your way, Leonard.” 

The younger McCoy knew a dismissal when he heard one and left the room, hoping his father could feel the seething rage he left behind. 

It took him maybe half the time to get up to his room that it normally did, his strides long and determined. He was ready to throw open the door and start a diatribe that would have put his grandmother’s to shame only to come up short. All the venom that he was about to unleash fell from his lips and was erased by the stunned whistle that escaped instead. 

Jim was standing at the edge of the bed, back turned to Len. His arms were still tangled in the undershirt he had pulled over his head. Jim half turned to raise an eyebrow at the man behind him. 

“Yeah?”

Len nodded stupidly before moving forward. “Yeah.” He put a hand on Jim’s hip and used the other to trace his fingers over the ink that moved from Jim’s right side over the ribcage all the way up and across to his left shoulder. Jim hummed and leaned into his touch. Len stroked a thumb over his hip bone and looked closer. 

The tattoo started on Jim’s ribs. Actually, the tattoo _was_ Jim’s ribs. It outlined and shaded the bones. Behind the ribs were birds, dozens of tiny black silhouettes, breaking out of the cage of bone and spreading out across Jim’s back, curling up over his left shoulder. It was beautiful and nothing like Len would have expected. He could see the stars from the space tattoo starting their way over Jim’s right shoulder. He leaned forward and kissed one. 

“LIke what you see, Bones?”  

“Yeah, kid. I really do. What are the other two?” Len nuzzled into Jim’s neck and kissed just above the piercings.

Jim laughed and pushed Len away. He turned and winked as he started to unbuckle his belt. Len’s mouth went dry. Jim pulled his pants off and turned back around pointing to the back of his left calf. It had an old fashioned rocket, like the ones designed for 1950’s sci-fi comics, with cartoon flames showing it blasting off. 

“Jesus, Kid. Can you be more of a tease?” 

Jim snickered and jumped onto the bed. 

“I could show you the one on my thigh.” He turned and put his hands behind his head, looking up at Bones from the pillows. “But I’d have to take my underwear off for that. 

Len let himself look over Jim’s body, lingering on the black boxer briefs stretching over Jim’s half hard cock. He quickly started to strip off his own shirt and toe off his shoes.

“Surprisingly, I’m okay with that.” Len shoved his own pants off and climbed onto the bed. Jim grinned and grabbed him by the hips, pulling the doctor down to claim his lips in a rough kiss. Jim’s mouth was hot and demanding, immediately banishing any of Len’s remaining concerns about his father’s warning. All that mattered now was the endless expanse of warm skin under his hands. 

He slid his hand up Jim’s right thigh, pushing it under the fabric of Jim’s boxers to run his fingers over the ink he knew was pressed into the skin. Len felt Jim’s breath catch and he pulled away to look down at the man. 

“You okay there, Darlin’?” Jim’s face was flushed and his lips were wet from the kiss. He gave Len a lopsided grin and pulled at the doctor’s hand. He guided Len’s fingers over his hip and along the long, hard, line of his cock. Len swallowed hard, unable to look away from where Jim was making him drag his fingers over his clothed erection.

“Yeah, Bones. I’m doing just fine.” Len’s eyes flicked up to Jim’s smug face. It has been so long since he had someone he knew this well – someone he cared this much about – under him. Suddenly the fact that Jim got along with his daughter, that Jim was smart as a whip and as dedicated a man as Len had ever met, was so much more important than the initial jolt of arousal that Jim had caused all those months ago. Suddenly, this wasn't just attraction to extremely hot tattoos on an even hotter body; this was something intimate with Jim that he hadn’t seen the likes of since M’Benga. 

Len smirked and leaned back down to capture those soft lips in his own. He nibbled and tugged at Jim’s lip while he palmed him through his boxers, eliciting a moan from the younger man that shot a red hot current straight to his own dick. He moaned into Jim’s mouth and ground his hard cock into Jim’s thigh. It wouldn’t take much, just a few slick fingers and—

Fuck.

“I don’t have condoms here, Darlin’...” First time alone with Jim after admitting that they were more than a little interested in each other and no condoms? What had he been thinking?

Jim let out a frustrated groan, but bucked into Len’s unmoving hand. 

“Okay. Okay.” Jim took a deep breath and took Len’s face in his hands. “That’s fine. We don’t have to have sex right now. We can save that. But I swear to god, Leonard McCoy if you leave me like this—”

“Oh, fuck no.” Len laughed and took the opportunity to kiss Jim breathless. “No sex, that’s fine.” He trailed kisses along Jim’s jaw and down his neck. “But we sure as hell ain’t stoppin’.” Jim moaned as Len started to suck a dark purpling mark into his neck. 

“Fuck. Good.”  

Without another word, Len squeezed Jim through his briefs roughly, pausing to take a deep breath when he felt his palm catch on the damp fabric at Jim’s head. He wanted nothing more than to get his lips on that leaking cock. He kissed and nipped down Jim’s torso in a rush, leaving a trail of livid red marks behind. His own dick twitched at the sight of the bruises on Jim’s pale skin. Knowing that he put them there was more of a turn on than he’d have ever thought, especially seeing them next to the lines of Jim’s tattoos. 

Slowly, he worked his mouth against Jim’s clothed dick, letting his tongue trace the head and mouthing hotly over the shaft until the front of Jim’s underwear was damp from his breath and tongue. Jim’s hands had found their way to Len’s hair, tugging while he gasped and rolled his hips against Len’s mouth. 

“Fuck, Bones.” Jim’s voice was breathless and Len’s head spun with the knowledge that he made the other man sound that needy. He quickly pulled Jim’s briefs down and took the head of Jim’s cock into his mouth. Jim cried out and thrust into the wet heat, gripping almost painfully at Len’s hair. Len growled deeply, but slid down Jim’s shaft in one fluid movement, reveling in the gasping whimpers that fell from Jim’s lips. “Oh god.” 

Jim was desperately trying to keep his hips still, trying to not thrust into the tight heat of Len’s throat. The doctor wrapped a hand over each of the blond’s thighs and risked a glance up at him. Jim was watching him, lips parted and eyes wide. The sight made Len’s cock throb and he ground into the mattress with a moan. Jim slammed his eyes shut with a shout and came down Len’s throat, fast, hot, and desperate.  Len swallowed and pulled off Jim slowly. He started to make his way back up, tracing over bruises and lines of ink with his tongue. 

“Fuck. Fuck, Bones. I—” Len cut him off with a brutal kiss, grinding his erection hard into the dip of Jim’s hip. It only took three thrusts before he came with ragged breath against Jim’s thigh. They panted into each other’s mouths for a few long moments before Jim started to laugh. 

“You just came in your underwear like a horny teenager.” 

Len laughed and kissed the side of Jim’s mouth tenderly. 

“Well, give me a chance to catch my breath and I’ll spend the rest of the night making it up to you.” 

“Well, if you insist.”

It turned out Jim’s thigh tattoo was gothic script of the first stanza of the Serenity Prayer. Len traced every curve of it with his tongue. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that his grandfather was turning in his grave, clutching his cross. He also couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

\-------------------------------------------

It had been two months since Jim and Bones had come to their senses. They had spent nearly two weeks trying to figure out how to tell everyone. Jim worried about his protective friends, Bones worried about the backlash of being closeted and then suddenly not. They eventually decide to just come clean at one of the cafe movie nights. 

No one was surprised. Gaila outright laughed at them. 

Tonight the club was pretty busy. There were a few people sitting at Len’s table with him, despite the fact that he didn’t know their names. Jim was already on stage, picking out a newer melody on his guitar. He started to sing without any of his normal preamble. 

 

 

_Every time you kiss me it’s like sunshine and whiskey._

 

_Chilling on a beach with my sweet Georgia peach._

_Not a care in the world, just trying to beat the heat._

_Body like an hourglass, sand on her feet._

_I can't help but stare cause I got the best seat._

_Just when I thought it couldn't get any hotter you slid on in,_

_said, "I'm a little hot and bothered, if you know what I mean._

_Let's crank it up to a hundred degrees."_

 

_You hit me like fire, shot me like a bullet._

_Burned me up and down, no way to cool it._

_But every time you kiss me it's like sunshine and whiskey._

_It's like a bottle of Jack straight to the head._

_One shot, two shot, copper tone red._

_Every time you kiss me it's like sunshine and whiskey._

 

The two sitting at Len’s table laughed and started nodding along. The pretty redhead winked at Len.

 “Heavens,” she said. “What I wouldn’t give to be the one kissing that.” 

 Len gave her a shrug but couldn’t stop from smirking. Kissing Jim was exactly like the song. Sunshine running down his spine and whiskey clouding his head. All he had to do was give Bones one look and the man was ready to jump through flaming hoops for him. Len wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to it. 

 

_You hit me like fire, shot me like a bullet._

_Burned me up and down, no way to cool it._

_But every time you kiss me it's like sunshine and whiskey._

_It's like a bottle of Jack straight to the head._

_One shot, two shot, copper tone red._

_Every time you kiss me it's like sunshine and whiskey._

 

Jim shot a look out over the crowd, locking eyes with Len when it finally landed on him. Jim tried to wink and ended up using his entire face. It was as stupid looking a thing as Len has ever seen. The fact that it still ran a warm current through his heart made him realize just how bad he had it. 

Nyota dropped into the seat next to him, angling her chair away from the two women sharing the table.

“I have no idea what you did, but you need to never stop.” 

He looked at her questioningly. 

“Jim has always been a self-deprecating kind of guy. The other night I was talking to him,” She grabbed Len’s drink and took a few quick gulps. “Do you know what he said to me?” 

“I haven’t the slightest, but if it involved your rack, I’m only dating him. I can’t actually control him.” He put his hands up defensively. Ny only rolled her eyes. 

“He said he felt like he actually got someone he deserves to spend time with. He wasn’t trying to brush off the fact that you’re an asshole, or that he needed to get out of this relationship. He was saying he felt like he actually deserved someone as good as you, Len.” Ny was grinning. “Whatever you’re doing. Don’t. Stop.” She kissed his cheek and hopped back over to the bar. 

“What was that all about?” Jim took her vacated seat. “She’s not pregnant is she? I don’t think I can handle Spock freaking out about being a father.” 

Len snorted and swatted at Jim’s shoulder. 

“Nice song, kid.” 

\------------------------------------------

The next year flew by. Jim continued to work at the restaurant, but made enough in tips at the bar that he could manage working most nights there. Len was still working weird as shit hours between clinic and emergency surgeries. Nyota wasn’t pregnant, but she did act like the group mother. Gaila was still making coffee and Scotty was still two steps away from blowing up the entire building by accident. 

All in all not much had changed and the things that did weren’t nearly as notable as they seemed like this should be. 

Gaila was trying to convince Scotty to let them do a stripper night. The only reason her husband wouldn’t agree was that he would be stuck cleaning the glitter off the stage. Nyota was making Spock come out more and more, much to Len’s displeasure. And Len and Jim were still, well, couple-y. 

They did things that couples did. They spent most nights at his place or Jim’s, but never apart. They went out on dates, they fought about stupid things and they discovered more about each other with each passing day. 

(“Dammit, Jim! How many things are you allergic to?!” 

“I don’t know. A lot?”)

They probably knew each other better than they knew anyone else by this point. Had either one of them needed to give a full profile of the other, there wouldn’t have been hesitation on any question about their boyfriend. From what they usually ate in the mornings, down to how often they changed their socks. Gaila liked to point out it was sickeningly adorable. Jim and Bones were completely okay with this, and would pretend to make eyes at each other just to see her make a face.

The only problem with how comfortable their relationship had become was that it had begun to draw attention. No matter how he might try to escape it, Len was the son of the governor. David McCoy was all about appearances and Jim Kirk did not fit the carefully structured look of his family. 

Pictures of Len and Jim would occasionally find their way into tabloids or online, only ever referring to Jim as a friend or companion, but Governor McCoy was not one to take chances. 

“Leonard.  Thank you for meeting with me, son.” He stood up and shook his son’s hand. They were meeting at a nice restaurant in Santa Monica. Len nodded and sat when his father did. Meetings with his father rarely meant good news, but at least it was somewhere public, so that meant Len was generally in the clear as far as being yelled at.

“What’s this about, Daddy?” He placed a napkin over his lap before meeting his father’s eyes. 

“I wanted to talk to you about some... blemishes.” Len’s blood ran cold. Blemishes was the word his father used to refer to unwanted behaviors. That meant that Len was doing something that David saw as dangerous to the image of the McCoy family. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with that boy. The vagrant. Jim Kirk.” 

Suddenly Len’s blood wasn’t cold anymore. He could feel the boiling anger rise to his face. 

“Jim isn’t a vagrant. He’s my boyfriend.” 

David frowned, casting a quick glance to the other tables. He seemed to deem them out of earshot because he didn’t bother leaning forward to keep speaking. 

“Kirk is a blemish. I want you to stop seeing him.” 

“No.”

David’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t often his son didn’t do what he told him. He had a feeling that when it came to this boy he would have his work set out for him, so he decided to cut to the chase. 

“That isn’t a request, Lenny. You will stop seeing that boy. You will stop spending time with him. You will stop spending time with the people he spends time with. And you will stop spending time where he spends time. If you don’t, you will have to face the consequences.” 

“What? You’ll cut me off? That’s fine. Do it.” Len crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. He knew his father wouldn’t do that. It was bad having a divorcé son – not as bad as having a gay son, but either was a hell of a lot better than having a disowned son. He wouldn’t ruin his appearances by 'throwing out' his only son and Len knew it. 

“I will cut you off. From Joanna.” 

The doctor’s throat went tight; suddenly he couldn’t breath. He could only let out a hoarse gasp. “You wouldn’t. Joce wouldn’t let you.” 

“Jocelyn wouldn’t have a choice. Her husband works for me, Leonard. I have enough influence. In fact, I have influence here as well. I can’t imagine it would be hard to convince one of my... more loyal friends to accidentally wait a little too long if a drug overdose came into one of their hospitals.” McCoy examined his nails casually. “It’s not terribly uncommon after all, for someone to fall off the wagon. And if you overdose more than once the next one is far more likely to be fatal isn’t it?” He peered over at his son. The doctor was sitting rigidly still and was white as a sheet. 

“He doesn’t use.” 

“He doesn’t have to, Lenny. All he has to do is have the history. I can take care of the rest.” He paused. “Joanna would miss you.” 

Len swallowed hard and looked down at his plate. 

“Well, I have a meeting to go to. Oh and Leonard, there are some photographers outside of the building, so when you leave, smile like you mean it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song this chapter is "Sunshine And Whiskey" by Frankie Ballard.


	8. What Hurts The Most

**Chapter 8 - What Hurts The Most**

 

He had expected hurt, confusion, anger. He had been expecting tears, yelling, and maybe even pleading. What Leonard hadn’t been expecting was a completely calm and collected Jim, who stood up and went to their room without a word. He took out a duffle bag and methodically put in a few changes of clothes, his computer, and a few books and then grabbed his guitar case. Without sparing a glance toward Len, Jim walked out the door, not even bothering to slam it behind him. 

Len stared at the door from his seat in the living room. The house suddenly felt more empty than when he bought it. He wasn’t sure if it was because Jim was gone or because he didn’t even stand up to watch him leave. 

\------------------------------------------

Jim didn’t play at the club that night. Instead, he sat in the guest room at the Scotts’ and tried to find the energy to cry. Gaila rubbed his back softly. 

“What did he say?” She was just as confused as her cousin. Leonard had seemed just as smitten with the singer a few days ago as he had been when they first met. 

“I don’t know. Something about healthy relationships and the kind of people he wants around his daughter.” Jim put his head in his hands and let out a shuddering breath. “It was kind of a roar of white noise after that.” 

“God, Jim, I’m so sorry.” She rubbed his shoulders softly, wishing there was something more she could tell him. If she thought it would have helped, she would have tracked down McCoy and ripped this throat out, but Jim wasn’t even mad yet. He was wounded and confused and no amount of violence would make it better. 

The look on Jim’s face made her think it wouldn’t be better for a very long time.

\------------------------------------------

“The hell is _wrong_ with you?!” Nyota ignored the stinging in her hand from where it had made contact with Len’s cheek. “I hope you regret this for the rest of your life, Leonard McCoy. You’re never going to find someone who loved you like Jim.” Her dark eyes were cold and angry. She turned on her heel and strode out of his home, slamming the door behind her. He couldn’t help but agree. 

His father had made it clear after their lunch. He wanted results immediately or Joanna would grow up without her father and Jim Kirk would end up dead, a statistic of drug use. Len gritted his teeth and rubbed hard at his eyes. He wanted to tell them why he had done it. He wanted to chase after Nyota, call Scotty, get on his knees in front Galia and plead with them to listen. He didn’t have a choice. He didn’t want to lose his little girl and he sure as hell would rather lose Jim than worry about whether or not his father really could get him killed. 

He couldn’t though. If they knew, they would tell Jim, try to convince him that his father wouldn’t do that, to go back to Jim and explain. So he had to let them believe that he had really come to his senses and dropped Kirk like he was hot. As a security risk and a bad influence, Jim Kirk couldn’t be trusted around his daughter, and they would never have a successful relationship. 

The ache in his chest hadn’t gone away since he realized how serious his father was. So for the first time since he realized he couldn’t fake a marriage anymore, Len buried his head in his hands and cried. 

\------------------------------------------

Len was 18 during his first year at ‘Ole Miss. A hard working and dedicated kid his entire life, he threw himself into his studies with the idealistic passion of someone who wanted to save lives. For the first month, he barely even looked up from his textbooks to eat, let alone talk to any of his fellow medical students. Until he literally ran into a handsome young man in the library and managed to knock both of them to the ground, sending books scattering. 

Somehow, Len had managed to walk away from that encounter with his dignity intact and Geoffrey M’Benga’s phone number written on the palm of his hand. 

It was a semester full of stolen kisses, deep laughter, and more sex than he dreamed he’d get in college. Len fell hard and fast and by the time winter break came around, he was more than ready to face his father and tell him the truth. He was gay and he was in love with Geoff. 

“No. You aren’t.” David McCoy’s face was calm, but his voice was ice cold. 

“Daddy, I am. I─”

“No, Lenny. You are not. I don’t know what that boy did to convince you otherwise, but I suggest you get yourself worked out.” David folded his hands neatly in front of him and looked his son in the eye. “If you don’t, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice, but to stop funding your education.” 

Len stared at his father in absolute horror. All he had ever wanted was to be a doctor. David had always encouraged him to pursue it, there was no way he would stop Len now. Not when he was so close…

“Daddy…” Len knew he was pleading, but he couldn’t stop himself. “He makes me happy.”

“I understand, Leonard.” No, he didn’t. He didn’t understand and he didn’t care. “However, I won’t let you blemish this family’s reputation for a phase. You’re an adult. Act like one. You’ll graduate, find a nice girl to start a family with, and you’ll smile like you mean it. End of story.” David turned back to his paperwork, giving Len a silent dismissal. 

Slowly, Len left the room. The click of the door closing seemed like a jail cell slamming. He’d never felt so betrayed and heartbroken in his life. 

\------------------------------------------

Geoff was understanding, if disappointed. He insisted they remain friends and they did, though the friendship became strained when Leonard went back to his highschool sweetheart. 

Jocelyn Darnell was a beautiful woman. Her kind eyes and sweeping blond hair captured Len’s attention immediately. It certainly didn’t hurt that she was smart as a whip. He flirted and smiled and gave soft touches.

 

They laughed and kissed, and the sex was good, even if it wasn’t as intense as Len knew it could be 

 

He proposed on the veranda of his childhood home when they’re both 20 years old. 

 

They married on a warm evening in June. Len watched as his adoring bride walked down the aisle on her father's arm. He should have been bursting with love and pride, but all he could focus on was feeling of dread filling his chest and the piercing hurt in Geoffrey M’Benga’s eyes as he watched Len take Joce’s hand. 

 \------------------------------------------

 They had decided to wait for children. Both of them still needed to finish school and that was going to be at least another six years. Secretly, Len was never planning to have children with Jocelyn. Every time he thought about it, his stomach would twist and the enormity of the lie he was living would leave him gasping for air. 

 

At twenty-four years old, all of their precautions failed and only two years into medical school, they became parents. 

 

When Len looked down at the tiny baby girl nestled into the crook of his arm, he couldn't find it in himself to be upset that things hadn’t gone to plan. If marrying a woman he cared for, but didn’t love, meant that he could have his Joanna, he’d do it all over again in a heart beat. He’d do anything for her. 

 

Jojo’s tiny fingers wrapped around Len’s thumb and, for the first time since he was eighteen years old, the knot in his stomach loosened. 

\------------------------------------------

When it came down to it, Len was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. It wasn't as if this was a storm that had been brewing for months or even years. It was a time bomb that started ticking the moment that Len decided he was going to marry a woman he didn't love. Cared for, yes, but he would never love her the way she deserved. After six years, it was getting harder and harder for them to reconcile the tension in their home. 

One quiet night, after Joanna had already been put to bed, Jocelyn sat down next to her husband where he filled out patient forms at the kitchen table. 

"How much longer are we going to do this, Lenny?" Len looked up to see his wife looking as worn as he felt. The guilt that lived as a constant low thrum at the back of Len's mind flared up, bright and painful. How long had she known? Did she know? Or was this just the result of his lie finally clawing its way to the surface after years of being held under. Jocelyn watched him with a steady gaze, waiting for him to look up from his work and answer her question. Len couldn't bring himself to. He set the pen down slowly and rubbed the back of his neck. 

"As long as it works, Joce." 

"It isn't working anymore. I'm not sure it ever did." She didn't sound angry, she sounded resigned, and that only made his chest ache more. "I don't know exactly what's wrong, but I know it's been wrong for a long time, Lenny. And while I don't regret this..." she sighed and put a soft hand on his arm. "I don't regret it. I really don't. But I can't live like this anymore. This isn't what I wanted my marriage to be. We have Jo, we can have our friendship, but this marriage is going to turn us into bitter, unloving people. That isn't who we are. That isn't who I want to be." 

Len finally looked up to meet her eyes. She wasn't crying, she wasn't angry, she was being honest. This was the woman he married, this was _why_ he married her. The fact that she hadn't changed, that this wasn't a case of falling out of love, doubled Len's guilt. 

"I'm sorry, Joce." He didn't say anything else, or offer an explanation, but the understanding was there. He agreed with her. This wasn't going to work anymore, and whatever the reason for that might be, he wasn't ready to tell her why. She pressed her forehead to his shoulder and sighed when he dropped his cheek to the top of her head. "I'm so sorry." 

"We'll figure it out, Lenny."            

\------------------------------------------

Len moved his things into the guest room that night. After he had tucked Joanna in, he shuffled off to get ready to fall into bed and pass out. It took him fifteen minutes to realize there was no way he was going to be able to get to sleep. 

His marriage was ending, his two-year-old would have to deal with having divorced parents, and his father was going to look at him like he was a failure. Maybe he was. He had lived the last six years in the most elaborate lie of his life. He wore a wedding ring that meant nothing more to him than a connection to a woman who gave him his daughter. His daughter would go through her life knowing that her father only married her mother because he was told to. Jocelyn would have to deal with the pain of knowing her husband was _relieved_ that their marriage was finally over, that he had been waiting for it to fail from the beginning. 

Len had ruined Jocelyn’s life just so that he didn’t have to face his father. With a shuddering breath, Len made the decision to take himself as far out of her life as he could. He would admit to being gay, he would give her whatever she wanted from the divorce as long as he could still see Jo. He’d take that job in L.A. and get the hell out of Georgia so she could move on. 

Forty minutes after slipping into a bed meant for strangers in his own home, Len closed his eyes and cried. 

\------------------------------------------

Scotty was thankful that Leonard hadn’t bothered coming to the bar after the breakup because he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do if he saw the man. On one hand McCoy had actually been his friend. A good friend too. The kind that you share a good drink with and text about the stupid things you think about during the day. On the other hand, the asshole broke Jimmy’s heart and no one had seen it coming. He felt like he would react to seeing Len by knocking him out, so he would be pretty happy to never see the man’s face again. 

He’d be even happier if he never had to see that look on Jim’s face again, either. The one he had on right now, the one that was a little hurt and a lot lost. It had been three months since the break up and Jim was back on the stage. A better outlet than drugs for sure, but Monty worried about exactly what Jim was going to say up there tonight. The boy had never been subtle in his lyrics, and he was hoping he wouldn’t have to pull Jim off the stage for singing “Fuck yourself with a cactus, Leonard McCoy.” 

Once Jim had actually started singing, he kind of wished that’s exactly what his in-law had been singing. 

_There ain't enough_

_Bourbon in Kentucky_

_For me to forget you_

_No there ain't enough_

_Matches I can strike_

_To set afire the memory of you_

 

_Up goes down_

_Right's gone left me behind_

_Wheels spin 'round_

_Reverse stuck in my mind_

 

_There ain't enough_

_Bourbon in Kentucky_

_For me to forget you_

_No there ain't enough_

_Bottles I could break_

_To make 'em feel as broken as I do_

 

_Stack up every barrel_

_Since the day it was made_

_Satisfaction guaranteed to kill the pain_

_But there ain't enough_

_Kisses from a stranger_

_On a long wild night to ever make it alright_

_If it ain't you_

 

_In my arms, in my bed_

_Yeah to hell with all the rest_

_Once you've had the best, nothing else will do_

_What's the use_

 

_There ain't enough_

_Bourbon in Kentucky_

_For me to forget you_

_No there ain't enough_

_Bottles I could drink_

_To make 'em feel as empty as I do_

 

Gaila gripped his arm tightly. He jumped, not realizing his wife had moved to stand next to him. He looked over into her panicked face. 

 

“He won’t start drinking again, love. If he hasn’t started by now, he won’t let the heartbreak have the satisfaction of getting him to start now.” He tucked some of the wild curls behind her ear. She didn’t look convinced. 

 

“Monty, he’s already started smoking again.”

“Something he gave up _long_ after he got clean. Come on, love. Has Jim Kirk ever backed down from a challenge?” That one seemed to calm her down a bit. Gaila sighed and shook her head. 

She watched as her cousin hopped off the stage and headed out the back door to smoke. With a sigh she went back to her customers, not seeing the petite blonde who slipped after him. 

\------------------------------------------

“So, that was certainly the most heartbreaking song I’ve ever heard.” Jim looked up from where he was desperately trying to light a cigarette, getting more frustrated with every click of his lighter. He narrowed his eyes at the small blonde woman in front of him. 

“Haven’t heard much music have you?” He turned back to the lighter and finally got it going. He took a long draw to get the cig lit and pocketed the lighter. “I’m gay, just so you know. And past the rebound sex part anyway.” 

The woman snorted and leaned against the wall. 

“You assume every woman who follows you out into an alley wants to sleep with you? I just wanted to see where all that heartbreak came from. I’m Carol, by the way. Carol Marcus. You have quite the talent.” 

Jim watched her out of the corner of his eye, focusing mainly on the tobacco between his middle and forefinger. 

“Do you make a habit of following men into dark alleyways, Carol?” 

She grinned and shrugged. He huffed a laugh and stubbed out the cigarette. 

“Jim Kirk.” He held out his hand. She shook it with a firm grasp. 

“Nice to meet you, Jim Kirk.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song this chapter is "Bourbon in Kentucky" by Dierks Bentley.


	9. Gives You Hell

**Chapter 9 - Gives You Hell**

 

Over the next few months Carol became Jim’s voice of reason. When Gaila or Nyota couldn’t be there to knock sense into him, Carol would happily do so. She knew him amazingly well by the time half a year went by. Not as well as Bones did, but damned close. She also had the added bonus of being a singer. A damned good one too. 

“How did you even manage to get into drugs to start with?” She flicked her hair out of her eyes, poking her tongue out as she tried to evenly spread nail polish on Jim’s toenails. 

“I needed a way to quiet my head. It let me focus on other things.” He stifled a yawn and watched her work. It had been a long day at the restaurant. One particularly sweet customer had thrown his beer in Jim’s face. It was a firm reminder that he needed a new source of income. 

“And the piercings?”

“You always ask so many questions?”

Carol laughed, all teeth and cheeks. Jim loved it when she laughed, it was comforting. 

“We could always play twenty questions, I ask one, you ask one.” She was surprised to see Jim’s expression shutter so quickly. The man never hid his emotions and usually, there was some kind of warning when they would shift. “Or not. Sore spot?”

“Yeah. I like piercings. I like nail polish, and bright colored shoes. I just wear what I want typically.” He shrugged but the conversation wasn’t as easy as it had been a few moments ago. 

“What’s so sore about twenty questions?”

“Carol, come on I don’t want to talk about it.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“That’s exactly why we should talk about it. You can’t just keep running from it. Is this about the asshole you dated?” Jim opened his mouth with a smirk, but the woman cut him off. “And don’t you give me ‘which one’ or anything like that. You know which one.” 

Jim sighed and flicked his tongue across this lip piercing. 

“Yeah. That’s how we got to know each other.” He was silent for a moment as Carol watched him, eyes unwavering from the his face. “What?”

“Jim...” She put the nail polish bottle down. “I’m not trying to say you don’t deserve to do this on your own time, but it seems like you’re clinging to the pain.”

“He was a really good man…”

“He couldn’t have been that good if he thought you would be a bad influence on his kid.” Carol knew most of the details of the break up, and that the guy had been friends with almost everyone in the group that had taken her in. They all avoided his name like a curse, so she never got more than 'that bastard.'

Jim looked away, picking at the edge of his tee shirt. Carol sighed and picked the bottle back up. She let Jim sulk for the rest of the night.

\------------------------------------------

“Carol’s singing tonight? I thought she didn’t want to do gigs.” Jim squinted at the chalkboard that listed the players for the club each night. Carol’s name was on it as clear as day. “Some shit about making enough money that she didn’t need to take it from others.” Carol worked in some kind of research lab, her first love had always been science. She adored music, but would tell anyone who asked that she didn’t want to make a career out of it. 

“She insisted. Figured she was gettin’ a bit restless is all.” Scotty flicked a piece of paper at Jim as Carol chatted with Cupcake, going over the song with him again before she would start singing. 

“Cool.” Jim flopped down onto a stool at the bar and waited.

Carol gave a shy smile and waved at her audience. 

“Hello. I’m Carol, and I don’t usually sing in front of people, but I figured I’d give it a shot tonight. This song is for a friend of mine, who needs a reminder now and again.” 

_Shut up and drive_

_You don't know what you're talking about_

_He's not the one_

_You ought to know that by now_

_You've got one of those hearts_

_That keeps changing your mind_

_Your heart has a way of making you stay_

_So shut up and drive_

 

_Don't look in the mirror_

_He might have that look in his eyes_

_The one thats so strong_

_It strangles your will to survive_

_He's mastered the art_

_Of looking sincere_

_His eyes have a way of making you stay_

_Don't look in the mirror_

 

_I'm the voice you never listen to_

_And I had to break your heart to make you see_

_That he's the one who will be missing you_

_And you'll only miss the man_

_That you wanted him to be_

 

_Turn the radio on_

_To drown out the sound of goodbye_

_Blink back the tears_

_Show me you've still got your pride_

_Just get yourself lost_

_In a sad country song_

_Those guys that they play_

_Know just what to say_

_Turn the radio on._

 

Jim watched Carol sing to him. The woman wasn’t going to let him wallow a second more. He wasn’t sure if he was furious or thankful. Fuck Leonard McCoy. It was time for him to move forward.

 

_Shut up and drive_

_Don't look in the mirror_

_Turn the radio on_

_Get out of here_

_Shut up and drive_

_Shut up and drive_

_Shut up and drive_

\------------------------------------------

Jim’s brow was furrowed as he looked over a sheet of music, scribbling a note here and there, humming out the tune. Carol was surprised to see him writing anything at all. She’d seen him work on songs maybe once in the near seven months she knew him. It wasn’t until he crumbled up the paper with a grunt and tossed it at the wall that she understood what was really going on. 

“Forcing it won’t help. Just wait until something comes to you.” She ran a hand through his hair softly. 

Jim just sighed. “Nothing feels right. Every time I start writing or singing, all I can think about is how much that bastard loved it when I sang country.” He rubbed at his eyes tiredly. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Carol.” Tilting his head back, Jim gazed up at her with a doleful face. Carol bit her lip and flopped down next to him. 

“What do you want, Jim? Other than to write and sing?” Jim just shrugged and tapped his pen against his thigh. She tried another approach. “You said he likes country; he liked when you sang it. What do you want your singing to do to him now?” 

Jim’s jaw tensed, but he seemed to really be thinking it over. Finally, a small smirk quirked at the corner of his mouth. 

“I want it to give him hell.” 

\------------------------------------------

“Spock!” Jim grinned at his best friend when the man opened the door to his and Nyota’s apartment. “Is your lovely wife home?” 

Spock raised an eyebrow but stepped aside to let him onto the landing that the door lead to.

“She is currently in the shower. Might I ask why you came to see her?” He started down the steps that led into the actual apartment below.

“I need to ask her if she can get a talent scout at the bar.” Jim skipped down the steps and into the living room. He had spent almost as many nights here as he had in his own apartment. 

“Not that I am complaining, but what exactly has lifted your spirits?” Spock folded down into one of the armchairs. There were books and papers neatly stacked on the work table against the wall, meaning Jim had interrupted his research. He smiled, knowing that Spock would have asked most people to come back later.

“I’ve decided to give it a go. I need to move forward.” 

A small quirk appeared at the side of Spock’s mouth. 

“I’m glad to hear that, Jim. I’m sure Nyota would be happy to arrange for a scout to come to Warp Core.” 

\------------------------------------------

Jim stood in front of the club’s audience for what felt like the thousandth time. He couldn’t remember how many songs he had played on this stage and tonight felt like it should be as easy as any other. However, tonight he also knew that there was talent scout from Enterprise watching him. Nyota had managed to pull a few strings and contact a friend. 

“Don’t fuck this up. My reputation is on the line here.” She had scowled at him as he had climbed onto the stage. There was a smile tugging at the corners of her eyes that gave her away. 

“Right. I’ll just go ahead and sing Achy-Breaky-Heart then.” Her hand shot out to smack him, but he had already danced away. 

Now he stood in front of the microphone, heart beating a mile a minute. 

“So I usually play country, as you all know.” He could see the scout’s face scrunch just a little. The older man obviously wasn’t the type to go for the twangy stuff that Jim favored, but if there was one thing Jim could do, it was adapt. “But I’m starting fresh, so I figured my music could use something a little different too.”

He signaled to Cupcake and a steady baseline started to thrum through the speakers. 

_Stop! the train is riding_

_Down to the station_

_Where you lived_

_When we were school kids_

 

_Hey! the rails are gone now_

_And I am falling down_

_Fools in a spiral_

_Round this town of steel_

 

_My body tells me no_

_But I won't quit_

_Cause I want more_

_Cause I want more_

_My body tells me no_

_But I won't quit_

_Cause I want more_

_Cause I want more_

 

_Stop! the train is riding_

_Down to the station_

_Where I lived_

_When I was a cool kid_

 

_Hey! is it my fault that_

_The fallen embers burn_

_Down in a spiral_

_Round your crown of thieves_

 

_My body tells me no_

_But I won't quit_

_Cause I want more_

_Cause I want more_

_My body tells me no_

_But I wont quit_

_Cause I want more_

_Cause I want more_

 

_It rides out of town_

 

If the crowd’s reaction was anything to go by, Jim had completely nailed it.

He avoided looking at the scout as he scrambled off the stage and ran a hand through his hair nervously, barely registering the applause around him. A heavy hand clapped down on his shoulder. 

“Kid, if you have more stuff like that hiding behind that shit eating grin, you’ve got a deal.” Jim spun to look into the face of the scout. He was old enough to be Jim’s father and was graying at the temples. His smile was easy, but his eyes were stern. This was not a man who messed around. “I’m Chris Pike.” 

Pike. Shit. This wasn’t a talent scout, this was Ny’s _boss_. Chris Pike was an agent. An agent that Jim had already missed one appointment with. Jim barely managed to find his voice. 

“Jim Kirk.”

“Well, Jim, lets talk.” 

And for the first time in eight months Jim felt like maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to breathe without Leonard McCoy in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapters songs are "Shut Up And Drive" by Chely Wright and "My Body" by Young The Giant


	10. Harder To Breathe

**Chapter 10 - Harder to Breathe**

 

Leonard had heard once that the first three days after a breakup are the worst. They were the days when you still turned to tell your loved one something, only to find an empty space, or when you needed to share something and you’re already halfway through dialing their number before you realized the mistake. He wanted to meet whoever said that and tear their heart to shreds the way Len’s had been. 

The first three days weren’t the hardest. He was still numb during the first three days, not wanting to believe any of it had happened. The second week was the worst. The second week was when the absoluteness of the breakup started to really sink in. 

He hadn’t just broken up with Jim; he had taken every insecurity that the kid ever had and ground it into his heart with a smile. 

There was no coming back from that and it was killing him.

The third week he found himself in a tattoo parlor, the same one that he had been in with Jim only three months ago. He rubbed his face as he thought about the delicate script of “Bones” that curled over Jim’s left pec. 

_You sure about this, kid? Isn’t getting a name tattooed supposed to be some kind of jinx?_

Jim had just smiled, winked, and asked if he was going to legally change his name to Bones. Len had rolled his eyes and hid his smile. 

He left the tattoo parlor without even asking to talk to an artist. 

\------------------------------------------

After a month and a half, the loneliness was starting to make his chest feel like it was going to cave in. He called Joce. 

“Leonard? It’s two in the morning, why on God’s green earth are you calling me now?” The Southern accent that came through the phone was so comforting and familiar that he pressed his face into the phone. “Are you drunk?”

“Yeah, a little.” There was a sigh, followed by some rustling of sheets. Len swallowed hard. “Can I talk to Jojo?”

“No, Len. It’s two am.” Joce’s voice was more awake now and it came softly through the phone. At least she wasn’t angry about the late night call. Then again Joce never got angry at him. She had always been unfailingly patient and understanding. He hadn’t deserved her. “Len, what’s going on, honey?” 

“I broke up with him.” It hurt more to say than he thought it would. A lot more. “God, Joce. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to. I miss him so much.” 

“Lenny, sugar. Shh... calm down. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Jim.” He let out a dry sob. “My father was threatening to take Jo away from me and let Jim turn up dead somewhere. I had to leave.” 

Joce inhaled a sharp breath. 

“Len... Len I wouldn’t let him take Jo away from you, you know that.” 

“He threatened Clay’s job. Said he’d get him fired if you let me see her.” He buried his face into the pillow. He wasn’t sure if it hurt more now that someone knew or if he wanted to cry in relief. He shouldn’t have been drinking before he called. Jocelyn swore into the phone.

“That _bastard._ ” She was quiet for a moment. “Why don’t you come back to Georgia, sugar? Get away from him for awhile.”

“My father or Jim?” 

“Does it really matter?”

\------------------------------------------

He was back in Georgia by the end of the month. His father commended him on the move and put him up in the family home so he could be closer to Joanna than he had been in almost three years. He was grateful for it, but he didn’t miss Jim any less. Jocelyn took care of him, though, and Clay made him go out and do things. He was thankful they stayed close after the divorce. He was thankful that there are people here who _really_ know him, but the fact that he was still in his father’s hometown was starting to weigh down on him. 

“Lenny, you should start looking somewhere to settle down. Jocelyn and Clay have been married for almost three years now. It’s going to start looking strange if you don’t find someone soon.” David McCoy sounded casual over the phone, but Len could almost see the tense jaw that would give away how serious he was. 

“Last time I did something like that I ended up getting divorced. You really want that blemish on your scorecard twice, Daddy?” He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. He’d been in Georgia for under a month and it had felt like five. 

“I expect you to stick with it this time, Leonard. Find a girl. Treat her right, and when you see her walking toward you down that aisle, you smile like you mean it.” 

It took all he had not to throw the phone against the wall when his father hung up. He called Jocelyn instead. 

“Afternoon, sugar. You still coming to dinner?”

“My father wants me to get married again. Joce, I don’t know what to do. I can’t do anything without someone getting hurt.” 

Jocelyn bit her lip, listening to the defeated sigh of her ex-husband through the phone. 

“I think I might have an idea, Len. It’s not... ideal. But, it will get your father off your back for a good while…” 

\------------------------------------------

Christine Chapel was a firecracker. There was no other word to describe the woman and she seemed perfectly content with that.

When Jocelyn had first introduced them, Len’s stomach had dropped and not pleasantly. She was beautiful. Strong-jawed, with plush lips and meticulously-coiffed platinum blonde hair. Her nails were long and painted flawlessly and Len couldn’t help but feel like he was going to have to treat this woman like a princess just to keep her mollified. He was proven all kinds of wrong just by her handshake alone. She grasped his hand firmly and looked him straight in the eye. Those cornflower blues were smiling at him with patient amusement. She was used to being misjudged. 

“Christine Chapel. You must be Doctor McCoy. Leonard?”

“Len.” He offered meekly. “How do you know Jocelyn?” They sat at the far corner table in a coffee place the next town over. They had wanted the meeting to be fairly private. Christine quickly leaned forward and put her chin in her palm with her elbow on the table. It made her seem much less doll-like and much more accessible. 

“I’m a nurse practitioner in the ER at the same hospital she works in. I’d ask how you two met, but it seems kind of tacky.” She gave him an easy smile and he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You are not what I was expecting," he said, surprising himself with a smile. 

“What exactly were you expecting then?” she asked with her eyebrows raised. 

The waiter interrupted them and they each ordered a plain coffee and bagel. Christine watched the waiter walk out of earshot before she turned back to Len. “Were you expecting a bitchy heiress with more breasts than brains?”

Len’s eyebrows shot up.

“I was expecting someone who cared more about her reputation than herself. I’d like to think I’m above thinking women are stupid because they have large breasts.” 

Christine grinned, her eyes crinkled in an almost painfully-familiar way. Those eyes were just a few shades off, but damn, they were blue enough to make him think of Jim. “And yet you were more than happy to judge me on my appearances just now. “ 

Len narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. 

“I did. And yet, I didn’t let it paint my opinion of you when we started to talk. I admitted that I was mistaken.” 

Christine raised her chin and looked at him from under her eyelashes, a smile tugging at the corners of her lipstick reddened lips. 

“Leonard McCoy, I think you and I are going to get along just fine.” She thanked the waiter as he set down their coffee and food. “So, a fake relationship, eh?” 

Len snorted and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh. The more he thought about it the worse it made his head hurt. 

“Yeah. Probably the worst idea ever, but…”

“Oh, I don’t know. Breaking up with someone you were obviously head over heels for seems pretty bad.” She sipped at her coffee innocently and Len’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“You don’t pull punches, do ya?” 

“I’m not in the habit of it, no. My little sister is just as bad as I am; we ended up making each other worse for it.” Christine grinned and started started to spread butter and jam on her bagel. “I’m gay. You’re gay. Neither of us actually wants to get married, but will have to if we want to get our families off our backs long enough to get anything in our lives done. I suggest we date, get engaged, and turn the whole thing on it’s head before we actually have to plan a wedding.” She took a bite of the bagel and watched him expectantly. 

“Right. Okay.” He stared down at his own coffee and food, untouched. “Yeah.”

Christine reached over and put a friendly hand on his arm. 

“I know this isn’t exactly how people want to live their lives, but this will give us time to figure out how to get out of all of this. Our parents, the threats… and neither of us will be second time divorcees this way. ” 

Len nodded slowly and looked up at her. 

“Alright, darlin’. Lets make this official.” 

\------------------------------------------

A month later they moved in together, much to the local tabloids' glee. The headlines were all kinds of ridiculous, suggesting that Christine was pregnant or they were seeing each other for months in secret and that’s why Len had moved back to Georgia. 

Christine framed the one that said she and Len were closeted and dating each other as beards. The story was obviously pulled out of someone’s ass, but both of them would break down laughing whenever they saw it. 

At six months they decided it would be a good idea to get engaged. Their families adored their relationship and Len’s father was starting to get impatient. So Len went out and bought a simple ring, three stones, expensive as all fucking hell to please their families, but classic and neat enough that Christine would like it. He gave it to her that same night. They released the announcement a week later and two months after that they were both in the living room, begrudgingly talking about it. 

“Well, never thought I’d have one of these on my hand again.” She had her arm stretched out in front of her and her fingers splayed, watching the light catch off the diamonds. “It’s beautiful, Len. Thank you.” 

“No problem, Darlin’. Just keep the receipt.” He smirked at her and she smacked at him playfully. “You know this means we’ll have to have an engagement party now right?”

The woman groaned and fell back onto the couch. She sighed and turned up the volume on the TV. It was on a music channel that she liked and Len couldn’t stand, but at least he didn’t have to listen to it all the time.

“Our Mamas will be thrilled.” She scowled. “Oh well. At least you’ll finally get to meet my sister.” 

Len was about to make a smart ass remark when an excruciatingly familiar voice sounded over the TV. He turned slowly, hoping it was just his imagination, but there he was. Jim Kirk. Nearly a year after they broke up, Jim was on TV. 

“—exactly a happy song. Where did you get the inspiration for it?” The interviewer asked from off screen. 

“Ohhh, this boy. I’ve heard some of his songs, he’s damned good.” Christine turned the volume up another few clicks, unaware that Len’s heart had stopped beating. 

Jim was all smiles and golden blond hair. He looked almost exactly the same, maybe a little thinner, a little more tired, but still very firmly Jim. Piercings, nail polish, and all.

“Yeah, well we all have our stories right?” Jim laughed and rubbed back the back of his head. If he hadn’t been looking for it Len would have missed the flick of his tongue against the back of the lip piercing. The movement made his heart ache. “ I went through a pretty tough break up about a year back. Most of the songs are coming out of that or something from it.” 

The camera cut back to the interviewer.

“An age-old story that gives us some of the best songs unfortunately. Well, here we are with Jim Kirk, lead singer of Prime Directive. Let’s take a look at that new single shall we?”

The screen cut to to black before starting up the music video for the new single. Len didn’t remember sitting down, but he realized he had when he gripped the edge of the couch. 

_I’m coming out of my cage_

_And I've been doing just fine_

_Gotta gotta be down_

_Because I want it all_

_It started out with a kiss_

_How did it end up like this?_

_It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss_

 

_Now I'm falling asleep_

_And she's calling a cab_

_While he's having a smoke_

_And she's taking a drag_

 

_Now they're going to bed_

_And my stomach is sick_

_And it's all in my head_

_But she's touching his chest_

 

_Now, he takes off her dress_

_Now, let me go_

_And I just can't look - it's killing me_

_And taking control_

 

Len took a deep breath and closed his eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to cut Jim out of his life, just like he had cut himself out of Jim’s. It was why he moved back to Georgia despite not liking the hospital as much. It was why he started this farce with Christine. Her voice broke through his thoughts. 

 

“Len? Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, fine. I uh – I just got to go do something tonight. You okay if I take off for a while?”

Usually, Christine would push, ask him until he caved and told her what was really wrong. She scanned his face and apparently decided to let it go. 

“Yeah that’s fine. You want me to stay up for you?”

He seemed to think it over before nodding slowly. 

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” 

He got up and got his car keys, finally coming to a conclusion. He was a McCoy, and when a McCoy believed in something you had a better chance convincing a horse to fly than you did changing their mind. He believed in Jim and he believed that he loved Jim. He was never going to get James Kirk out of his head or off his heart. So he was going to stop pretending like he would. 

_Jealousy, turning saints into the sea_

_Turning through sick lullabies_

_Choking on your alibis_

_But it's just the price I pay_

_Destiny is calling me_

_Open up my eager eyes_

_'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside_

 

_I never..._

_I never..._

_I never…_

 

Len watched the needle of the tattoo gun beat into the skin on his wrist. It didn’t take long, maybe a half hour at most, but the thick black letters running horizontally across his left wrist made him feel a little more whole by the time he left. 

 

He was really glad that Christine didn’t ask about it when she saw the the bandages or when she saw the letters **JTK** in heavy black ink.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song this chapter is "Mr. Brightside" by The Killers.


	11. Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine

**Chapter 11 - Jenny Was a Friend of Mine**

 

“You sister is going to despise me.” Len’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove them to the airport. Christine furrowed her brow and turned to look at him slowly.

“Why would you think that?” 

He licked his lips nervously.

“I don’t know, I just get this feeling.”

“Sugar, we aren’t actually getting married. You remember that right?” Christine patted his arm teasingly. “Even if she loathes you, it’s not like you’re going to be dealing with her.” 

“Hey, you’re still my friend. I want your sister to at least like me. It’s bad enough that once the wedding is called off, your parents are going to want me dead.” He grinned and made the turn to pull into the pickup area. The radio was playing as background noise. No songs really catching their ears. Len had mostly started to block music out and Christine was craning her neck to look for her sister over the sea of heads. “Different mothers, right?” 

“Yes. My mama passed away when I was four and Daddy remarried when I was five, so I’m six years older than her. Her mama always treated me like her own though.” She squinted, finally finding a similar blond head waiting at the edge of the walk. “Oh there she is! Pull up about thirty feet, Len.”

Christine was all but bouncing in her seat, already unbuckling her seat belt to jump out of the car. Before Len could pull to a complete stop his fiancé had thrown open the door and jumped into her younger sister’s arms. 

“Christy!” They both grinned and laughed, holding each other at arms length and babbling on about something that Len couldn’t quite get. They did look like sisters even without knowing they were, the blonde hair and broad, sweet smiles that played against their wickedly sharp eyes. Len couldn’t imagine getting on the bad side of Christine, let alone two of her. 

“Len! This is my sister.” The woman reached over to shake the driver’s hand. 

“Hello, Len. Nice to meet you! I’ve heard all kinds of exciting things.” 

“Happy to meet you, Miss Carol.” 

\------------------------------------------

Len and Carol got on like a house on fire, both able to give as good as they got with sharp responses. Christine gave him a knowing smirk when he made at face at Carol for a particularly lewd joke. 

“I told you that you two would get along. I don’t know why you doubt me anymore.” Christine sipped her iced tea while waggling her eyebrows at the man sitting across from her. Len rolled his eyes and took a bite of his sandwich. They were sitting in Len and Christine’s kitchen, enjoying a light dinner before bed. Carol was tired from the flight and had wanted to be well rested when she hit her hometown the next day. 

“So what’s with the accent?” Len raised an eyebrow at the young blond. “Your sister is as Georgian as it comes and you sound like you were born and raised in the valley.”

“Oh, you know California?” Carol looked surprised. The man’s accent was almost as heavy as her sister's. 

“Lived there for about five years a couple years back. Didn’t feel like home anymore after a while.” 

“I don’t keep accents very well. When I was studying in London for a year I came back sounding like a native but only for three weeks. Give me a few days here and I’ll be y’alling and blessing your heart with the best of them.” She explained, pressing her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn. 

“I have a friend who makes fun of me because I can go from Posh Londoner.” Her voice switched easily to an upper-class English accent before drawling out into her native one. “To the southern bell your mama wants you to hitch yourself to.” Carol winked as Len laughed. “Not that he’s much better.”

“Jesus, you two make this very tempting to just follow through on the entire wedding.” Len shook his head trying to wipe the smile off his face. It felt good to be around people who could make him laugh. “Jojo would adore you.” 

Christine made a face.

“Sugar, I adore you and I’m happy to be Jojo’s favorite auntie, but I do not want to be a mother.” She stood and started to clear the plates from the small table. 

“And if I wanted to marry a gay man, I’d marry my best friend, but thanks.” Carol grinned at him. “Oh. Teeny, I want to see if you like this.” She jumped up from the table and ran to the guest room. Len raised an eyebrow and turned slowly to his fiancé, mouthing “Teeny?” 

Christine pursed her lips and glared at him. “That is not a nickname you’re allowed to use, Lenny.”

“No need to get nasty, Christine.” He smirked at her, storing the nickname away for later. 

Carol plopped back down in her seat and opened up the laptop she had fetched from her things. “I think he’s pretty fantastic, I want to know if you like his music too. I heard him in a club a little while ago when I was thinking of getting some gigs.” She typed into the computer. “What’s your password?” Christine rattled it off to her as Carol typed.

“I thought you were a weapons engineer.” Len shot her a confused glance. 

“I am.” She shrugged. “I like music, I sing here and there when I have time. Ah, here it is.” 

“There’s actually the club we’re going to for the Christmas party that Carol used to sing at just about 25 minutes out of town.” Carol flapped a hand at her sister to hush her.  She hit play and clicked the volume up. 

 

_Shaking like the devil when she lets me go_

_Got a new place and how it's so much better_

_Falling over myself, the television's on_

_I turn it off and smile_

_Oh Jennifer, you know I always tried_

_Before you say goodbye_

_Leave the bourbon on the shelf_

_And I'll drink it by myself_

_And I love you endlessly_

_Darling, don't you see_

_I’m not satisfied._

 

Len honestly wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to slam Carol’s laptop shut until Christine was on the other side of it grinning. 

 

“Oh god, I love this boy’s voice. Think I could pay him to work the engagement party?” She snickered and turned the song up. Len balled up his fists and bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to keep his voice casual. 

 

“Seems to have a story behind that girl. Jennifer.” He thought back to a song he’d heard at work in the break room a couple of weeks ago. Jenny had been been a friend of his apparently. He tried not to think too hard how it only took one letter to change it to Len’s name. 

 

“I think he made the name up. He’s gay, but the industry likes to keep his bad boy image open. I may or may not have chatted with his bass player.” Carol grinned up at Leonard. “Sulu. Man is pretty great actually, and the drummer – oh gosh the things I want to do for that boy.” 

 

Christine laughed. “Does it involve you and very little clothing?”

 

“No,” the younger woman snorted. “It involves wrapping him in a blanket and tucking him away from Kirk. I meant _boy._ He can’t be older than seventeen and Kirk loves to make him blush.”

 

Len huffed a laugh and rubbed his face. That certainly sounded like Jim.

 

“I’m going to head off to bed, girls. See you in the morning.”

 

He tossed and turned the entire night. 

\------------------------------------------

Jim grinned and waved his guitar as a goodbye to the audience as he left the stage. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and took a deep breath. Stage lights were always insanely hot and the movement from the huge crowd he had just played for didn’t help any. His hair was sticking to the back of his neck and his longer than usual bangs were falling into his eyes. He needed a haircut, but his stylist said it looked edgier when it was long. 

“Nice job out there, Kirk!” Sulu clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. The bassist had been the only guy in an audition of forty people that had been able to get a smile out of Pike, even after starting off by forgetting to plug in the amp. Jim had liked him instantly. Sulu was just as fast to fight as he was and they challenged each other in all the best ways. “I could barely see you almost passing out.” 

Jim tried to roll his eyes, but ended up laughing. 

“It was hot!”

“Try wearing short sleeves sometime. What are you even hiding under there?” Sulu tugged at Jim’s collar, trying to peer under the shirt. “Do you have giant gang tattoos or something?” Jim twisted out of Sulu’s grasp. He caught sight of their drummer and grabbed at the opportunity. 

“Nah, I just don’t want Chekov falling over himself every time he sees my bare arms. We have to work together after all.” 

The kid’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Vhy vould I─”

“Don’t listen to him, man. He’s just fucking with you.” Sulu shook his head with a dramatic sigh. Chekov looked unconvinced, but shrugged. Jim wasn’t buying it. The kid was a first-class genius. He could keep time like a metronome because of how easily counting and rhythm came to him. Jim had also seen him working out complex equations as if he were doodling to pass the time. Despite the teasing, Pavel was the only one willing to play chess with him when Spock wasn’t around. 

They had become as much a part of his family as Carol had and he adored them. 

“Come on, Boys!” Pike called out to them from the stage door. “You have a huge crowd of adoring fans to wade through before your plane leaves in two hours.” The band groaned as one, but moved forward to stash their instruments and face the crowd that would be gathered around the back door. As usually, all three of them were grinning by the time they actually got to their car. Jim looked out the back window to watch their fans fade with the distance. 

This was his life and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get over it. 

\------------------------------------------

Carol peered at Jim over the top of the stage before practice at his latest venue. He could see the stupidly happy grin in her eyes. He ignored her pointedly.

“You look like you’re up to absolutely no good.” Sulu eyed her as he started to set up behind Jim. 

“You guys have some down time around Christmas don’t you?” She set her chin on the edge of the stage, giving the bass player a large innocent smile. “My sister _adores_ your band and it would mean the _woooorld_ to her if you played at her engagement party.”

“Who the hell has an engagement party on Christmas?” Jim finally looked at her, confusion painting his face. “Is this a weird Southern thing?”

Carol rolled her eyes and hefted herself up onto the stage to sit by his feet. 

“No, but there’s a club there that we have a party at every year. Christmas would just be to show her I could actually convince you to come for the engagement party in May. Not to mention it’s not like you have somewhere better to be.”

“I do.” Sulu raised his hand, reminding the other two of his presence. “Some of us actually have family we want to spend time with on Christmas.”

“ _Around_ Christmas, Hikaru. Not on. A full week and a half before. Please.” She clasped her hands below her chin and blinked large blue eyes up at both of them. 

Jim sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Make sure Chekov can come and I’m in.” 

“You are _such_ pushover!” Carol jumped to her feet and kissed his cheek before running off. “Pavel! Ever been to Georgia?!”

\------------------------------------------

Len sipped lazily at the bourbon in his hand, glancing around the lively club. It was full of friends of his, Christine’s, and people he didn’t recognize that he assumed were Carol’s. Jocelyn and Clay were laughing over something Christine was saying while she waved her hands enthusiastically. He smiled at the sight, glad they had this opportunity to relax. They had been worried the entire event would have to be called off because of the rain storm that was supposed to be headed over them. When there had barely been a drizzle the entire day, Carol put her foot down, declaring that it was happening. 

He made his way over the laughing group of people. 

“Isn’t a club supposed to have music?” He poked Christine’s side, eyebrows raised in question. 

“He’s got a point, Christy. Don’t get me wrong, the party is great.” Clay raised his glass as if to make a point with his drink. “But some music wouldn’t go amiss.”

Christine gave an exasperate sigh. “Carol said she was taking care of it this year, she wanted a real band instead of a DJ, they’re late.

“They are _not._ ” Carol had appeared at Jocelyn’s elbow. “The flight was.” She admitted sheepishly. “Oh! In fact here’s one of them now.” An almost feral grin lit up her face as they all turned to see who was joining them. 

Jim grinned and wrapped Carol up in a hug.

“Hello, doll. Sorry about the delayed flight. The storm decided to hit right as were supposed to be landing. They’d grounded all flights about half an hour after we got in.”

“Oh my god, you’re from Prime Directive.” Christine’s eyes were wide. She slapped a hand over her mouth, color raising to her cheeks. Jim just laughed. 

“Yeah. Got the whole band here oddly enough.” 

“Carol, you little shit!” Christine couldn’t stop smiling. “'I’ve talked to the bass player' my ass! This is your friend you keep talking about!”

Carol was smirking in triumph.

“Everyone, this is my friend Jim. Jim, this is my sister Christine, her friends Joce, Clay and her fiancé, Len.” Jim shook each person’s hand in turn before he turned and finally realized who he had been standing next to the entire time. 

Leonard’s face had taken on a somewhat greenish color, and his jaw was tight. Jim’s easy smile faltered and his hand dropped before Len could even pretend to reach for it. 

“Oh, fiancé, huh?” His voice was laced with disdain. “Congrats. You must be thrilled. I’ll catch you in a bit, Carol. Got to go set up.” He pushed past the doctor, ramming his shoulder into Len’s hard. 

The other man winced but didn’t say anything. Everyone was staring at him.

“I’m... sorry. I’ve never seen him do that before.” Carol looked confused and extremely concerned. “He’s usually so easygoing.”

“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. Sometimes I just rub people the wrong way.” Len tried to brush off the encounter. Jocelyn was staring at him. 

Len offered to go get them more drinks and walked away before anyone could protest. Joce followed him.

“Len. Len!” She grabbed his wrist. “Jim? _That_ Jim?” 

He gritted his teeth and gently shook her off. “Please, don’t.” He gave her a pleading look. His stomach was twisting and his heart felt like someone had crushed it in his fist. Seeing Jim was a hundred times worse than just hearing him. Jocelyn’s eyes flicked across his face searchingly for a few long moments before she sighed and turned back to join her husband. 

Len leaned heavily against the bar and put in an order for a whiskey, neat. He tacked on ‘double’ as an after-thought. He wasn’t making it through this party sober, that was for sure. 

There was the sound of an amp clicking to life and the chattering crowd went quiet. Jim adjusted the microphone before looking out into the crowed, looking more at home than he had a few minutes ago. 

“Hi there! We’re Prime Directive.” A cheer rose up in the crowed. Christine was making her way over to the bar. Len didn’t even pretend to have his attention anywhere but the stage. He brought his drink to his lips and took a long draw from it. “We’re going to play a few old favorites tonight, but I think I’ll start us out with something that hasn’t been released yet. This goes out to a very particular person in the crowd.” He threw the audience a saccharine grin and signaled to the curly haired drummer to count them off. 

Jim rocked his head in time and started the song. 

_Save some face, you know you've only got one_

_Change your ways while you're young_

_Boy, one day you'll be a man_

_Oh girl, he'll help you understand_

 

If Len thought it had been painful to hear Jim on the radio, this was torture. 

Jim’s eyes scanned the room, finally finding Len at the bar. The singer looked right into those warm hazel eyes and made sure to hold them. He put all his anger and hurt into the next words, scathing and careless. 

_Smile like you mean it_

The glass shattered in Len’s hand. 

He could vaguely hear Christine yelp and call his name.  He watched as a bitter, but satisfied, smile flickered across Jim’s face. The singer turned away from him and kept going. Len ignored the sound of Christine telling him to hold still as he pushed away from the bar. His vision was closing in and he couldn’t breath. Forget a crushed heart– it felt like someone had set it on fire before quenching it in ice water.

Somehow he managed to stumble into the men’s bathroom. He pitched forward into the closest stall before falling to his knees, quickly emptying his stomach of whatever he’d managed to eat that afternoon. 

Christine was on her way after him when the club was plunged into darkness. A few screams rose from the crowds and Christine swore loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs this chapter are "Leave The Bourbon On The Shelf" and "Smile Like You Mean It" by The Killers.


	12. Why Georgia

**Chapter 12 - Why Georgia**

 

 

“EVERYONE stay calm!” Christine yelled out, using the voice she had cultivated while taking charge of a crisis in the ER. “The storm probably just knocked the power out. The generators will kick on any second.” 

As she finished the sentences a few of the lights flickered back on, the soft hum of the outside generators worked its way through the walls. 

“Sorry to cut the party short, but if everyone could please grab their things.” She gestured toward the door. The generators wouldn’t power enough things to keep the party going and if the storm had already gotten that bad in the last couple of hours she would rather people get home before it got worse. 

“Carol. Please get everyone going.” She started off towards the men’s room again. 

Christine pushed her way into the bathroom and peered around. The generators seemed to keep the lights going. She could see her fiancé's shoes under the divider for the first stall. 

“Len.” She only got a whimper back. Honestly that sound worried her more than the breaking glass had. With a sigh she pushed the door to the stall open and squeezed in next to him. “You need to let me look at that hand, sugar.” 

The doctor shook his head. He was leaning against the divider, his face pressed to the cool metal, his eyes closed. “It’s not bad. A few scrapes, nothing still in my hand.” 

“Don’t lie to me, Leonard McCoy.” She grabbed his hand and peered at the few cleans slices in his palm and the one along his index finger. “You’re lucky these don’t need stitches.” 

He gave a noncommittal grunt and took a deep breath. “Can you drive me home?”

“I have to stay and make sure we clear everyone out of the club. The owner isn’t here tonight. He gave Carol the keys to lock up.” She sighed. “There’s a medical kit under the bar, I think. Do you want to stay here while I get it?” 

He nodded softly, keeping his eyes closed as she got up and walked away.

He took deep even breaths while he waited. The look on Jim’s face had wrecked him. He couldn’t get the look of hurt out of his head and it was making his stomach churn. Christine came back less than two minutes later, putting his hand in her lap. He hissed at the feeling of rubbing alcohol wipes.

“Sorry,” she said softly. “It was all they had.” She placed a few heavy duty bandages across his palm before wrapping the deeper cut on his finger. “You can’t stay here all night, Len. Almost everyone is cleared out, we can go home soon.” 

Len heaved a sigh and struggled to his feet. He finally opened his eyes and grabbed for the blond woman’s hand with his uninjured one. She squeezed it comfortingly and led him out of the bathroom.  

Carol intercepted them before they got more than five steps out. 

“Your friend Clay just called. They were closing the road just as they got across. It’s flooding something fierce and the 71 south is still closed for construction. We can’t go anywhere until the road opens back up.” Her eyes darted up to Len and back to her sister. 

Len felt like he might vomit again – they were stuck in the club for the night. Carol, Christine, the drummer, bass player, him, and Jim.

Shit. 

\------------------------------------------

The generators kept a few lights on and the food from the bar from spoiling, but they didn’t do much by the way of heat or entertainment. Everyone was spread out within the glow that the stage lights cast off and the band members were sprawled out on the stage. Chekov was laying down with his knees pulled up, tapping absently against the floor with one of his drum sticks. Sulu was leaning against the drummer’s knees picking back a counter beat on his bass. 

Carol and Christine were whispering harshly at one of the tables they had dragged onto the dance floor. They seemed to be arguing over a few different things and Jim could only suppose they were trying to figure out which side of the story was the right one. He, on the other hand, was watching the doctor from his place perched on top of the table just outside the circle of light.

Len was sitting with his back against the base of the stage, eyes closed and jaw clenched. The singer knew that meant he was frustrated and feeling hopeless, Len would always clench his jaw like that for at least ten minutes after hanging up the phone with his father. 

Realizing he still recognized the other man’s tics made Jim furious. What right did Len have to be here? To still be the man he fell in love with? Jim slammed his hands down on the table top. The stinging in his hands helped get his heart beat back down to somewhere around 70 bpm. He actively ignored the image of Bones’ engagement photo smashing around in his skull. _Jealousy, turning saints into the sea._

“Well. I’m going stir crazy. Who wants some music?” The startled group looked over at him. He hopped off the table and walked toward the stage, as far from where Len sat as he could.  

“ _Please_.” Chekov let his head thud back down against the stage. “I don’t think I could take another second of this.”

Sulu rolled his eyes, but nodded his agreement. “Something would be nice.” 

Jim climbed up onto the stage and sat down at the small piano in the corner. It was obviously there because the owners liked the look of it. It was dusted and polished, but just one or two warm up scales to showed how out of tune it was. He ignored it and focused on trying to make his hands remember what piano keys felt like. 

Carol was watching him with hawk-like ferocity, he could feel her eyes on the back of his neck. She was sending him a warning. _Don’t you dare start shit, Kirk._ Deep down he knew she was right, but he couldn’t quite shake the bitter anger that was clinging to the back of his throat. 

It _hurt_ to see McCoy again and he wasn’t sure how to take the fact that it apparently had rattled the doctor more than a little too. He took a quick glance at the bandaged hand resting in Len’s lap. Swallowing past the sudden dryness of his throat, Jim plinked out a few notes, warming up before he dove into the actual song. 

“Well, considering where we are.” Jim hummed the first few notes to recall the song he hadn't heard since long before he had picked up a guitar. 

_Georgia, Georgia_

_The whole day through_

_Just an old sweet song_

_Keeps Georgia on my mind_

 

_I said Georgia, Georgia_

_A song of you_

_Comes as sweet and clear_

_As moonlight through the pines_

 

_Other arms reach out to me_

_Other eyes smile tenderly_

_Still in peaceful dreams I see_

_The road leads back to you_

 

_I said Georgia, oh Georgia_

_No peace I find_

_Just an old sweet song_

_Keeps Georgia on my mind_

 Bones had finally gotten to his feet and was watching his ex from the edge of the stage. Carol and Christine had gone extremely quiet and even Sulu and Pavel had started to feel the tension in the room. Jim stared down at his hands, still poised over the keys. He had come to a very sudden and certain conclusion.

 He was fucked. 

Completely and utterly fucked for the rest of his life because even after almost two _fucking_ years he was still in so deep over his ex that he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

\------------------------------------------

“I need to go smoke.” He pushed away from the piano, ignoring the dangerous tilt of the bench and all but flew out the side door. Jim’s hand scrambled across his coat pockets, digging for his pack of cigs and the lighter. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckshitgoddamnedcocksuckingpissingfuck.” He finally managed to get his shaking fingers to pull a cigarette out of the box and was struggling to get his lighter to stay lit when the door clicked open and shut. 

“Not now, Carol.” He swore again as the light flicked out before he could get the end of his cig into the flame. Steady hands pulled the lighter away from him and lit it in one deft flick, cupping the flame against the wind. Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath, leaning forward to start his cigarette. He leaned back against the building and took a long draw. 

“I didn’t know you played piano.” Bones sounded a lot more quiet than he remembered. There was still a lot of gravel, but not nearly as much gruff. 

“Yeah, well, apparently I didn’t know you as well as I thought, either.” Jim didn’t have to imagine the flash of pain that shot through Bones’ face at the comment – he’d seen it when the doctor broke a glass in his hand. He gave a heavy sigh and opened his eyes. The alcove was dark, difficult to see even under normal conditions from the looks of it, but with no moon and the rain sheeting off the roof a few feet away Jim could barely make out Len’s expression even with the flickering lamp the generator seemed to be powering. “What are you doing out here, Len?” 

He saw Bones flinch even in the dim light. A cruel flare of satisfaction hit low in his stomach. As petty as it may seem, he wanted Bones to hurt like he did. 

“I don’t really know.” They had to speak a little loudly to be heard over the rain crashing down next to them. The roof’s overhang protected them from really getting wet but there was no ignoring that the storm wasn’t going to let up anytime soon. “I miss you, Jim.”

“You should have thought about that before you dumped my ass, Bones.” Jim dropped the cigarette butt on the ground, grinding it out with his heel. He pulled out another and looked at the doctor expectantly. They hadn’t spoken in two years and Jim wasn’t going to make this easy. 

“I did.” Len reached out and flicked the lighter on again, cupping the flame with his left hand. Jim’s eyes flicked to the brunet’s hands – those hands that had pulled him so close before, those hands that had soothed him and made promises, those hands that had a fucking tattoo under them. 

“The _fuck_ is that.” Jim grabbed Bone’s left arm, his cigarette dropped to the ground, completely forgotten. “The _fuck_ is this, Bones?! My initials? Really?” Jim threw the other man’s arm away from him. “What is it? Some kind of sick reminder?” He was shaking. He wanted to turn on his heel and never see Leonard McCoy again but he couldn’t stop himself from pushing forward. He landed both hands on Len’s chest and shoved hard. 

Len didn’t do anything. He stumbled back, eyes wide in shock. This was the Jim he had expected in the apartment all that time ago. This angry, wild-eyed man. Now that he was faced with it, Leonard wasn’t sure what to do. 

“Say something! Twenty fucking questions, Bones! Why wasn’t I good enough?!” 

“Jim, it wasn’t—” Jim shoved him again.

“Wasn’t me? Wasn’t what I thought? Wasn’t ever going to work? Wasn’t _what_ , Leonard?” Jim was screaming now. He shook with relief and anger and hurt. He reached up and tried to shove the other man again. 

This time Len managed to react. He grabbed Jim’s wrists, holding them in the air between them.

“He was going to _kill you,_ Jim!” Bones snapped. “He was going to have someone make it look like you overdosed and he was going to have you killed!” 

Jim blinked at him, the rain streaking down his face where his hair lay flat against his forehead. It was only then that Len realized that Jim had pushed them out into the rain. He dropped Jim’s hands and scrubbed at his face roughly. With a shaking breath, he looked at the singer. Jim had let his hands fall to his sides limply. His eyes were desperately searching Len’s face for some kind of explanation, something, anything, to tell him what exactly had happened. 

“My father,” Len started wearily. “He told me to end it or he was going to make Joce keep Joanna away from me. He’d get Clay fired if she didn’t. Then he was going to have someone make it look like you fell off the wagon and wait too long to treat you for an overdose. He would have done it, Jim. He would have had you killed. And I just,” Len spread out his hands, trying to convey what was happening to his heart somehow. “I just couldn’t lose you like that.” 

They were both shivering now that the rain had begun to soak through their clothing. Jim crossed his arms over his chest tightly. “And Christine?”

“Has parents who want her married off to a nice, male doctor.” Len unconsciously mirrored Jim’s action, hugging himself against the chill of the storm. “We’re – we’re working to expose just how many people my father has under his thumb. There’s – a lot there, Jim. We’re taking him down.”

“So the tattoo…”

“I stopped pretending like I was going to get over you.” He swallowed hard and watched Jim, waiting for another shove or maybe a punch. Lord knew he deserved it.

Jim flung himself at Bones. He grabbed Bones’ face and slammed their lips together. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was angry and more teeth than anything, but it was the first time they’d touched, really touched, in too long. Bones brought arms up and wrapped them tight around Jim’s waist, pulling the other man as close as he could. Jim gave in readily and pressed against Len, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck. 

The kiss slowly turned into something softer. They took long pauses just to breathe in each other’s space before coming back together again. Finally, Jim broke away and buried his face in Len’s neck. 

“I’m still so mad at you. I don’t know if I can do this.” 

“I know.” Len held on a little tighter, not ready to let go just yet. “I know.” 

The door clicked open and Christine peered out the door and into the dark. 

“Oh good, you two haven’t killed each other. The lights came on about five minutes ago. They’re doing escorts on the roads tomorrow morning so we’re still stuck here for the night.” She hesitated. “The boys have some sleeping bags and things in the van and I have blankets in my car so I’ll just have them help me get everything inside.” She went back inside. 

Len huffed out a laugh against Jim’s hair. 

“That woman is not exactly subtle.” He reluctantly pulled away and held Jim at arms length looking him up and down. “I—” He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. “I know I fucked up.”

“No kidding?” 

“I know I fucked up,” He continued with a half hearted glare. “But please, Jim. Just give me one more chance. I can’t stand being without you.” 

Jim looked tired – no, he looked strung out and exhausted. 

“I’ll think about it, Bones.” 

“Okay.” What else could he say? 

Taking the time Christine gave them to make a tentative truce they kissed once more before heading inside. 

The small group was heading back in, trash bags in hand. Carol raised an eyebrow at Jim questioningly, but didn’t say anything about the two men’s disappearance. Sulu and Chekov were preoccupied with pulling blankets, sleeping bags and dry clothing out of the trash bags. 

“Jim, we got your sleep shit out of the car. Go change so you don’t stink the place up like cigs.” Sulu threw a mostly empty bag to him. Jim grumbled, but made his way to the bathroom to change.

Christine grabbed Len’s arm and gave an exasperated sigh as she examined his hand. “I’m going to have to change these bandages. The boys are letting us borrow shirts to sleep in. Or Hikaru is. Pavel is tiny enough that I’m worried a shirt wouldn’t do much in way of coverage.” She peeled back the thick bandages on his palm. “Is everything okay?”

“No, but I think it could be.” Len gave her a half smile. When Jim came back out from the bathroom he was wearing an ‘Ole Miss shirt that the doctor was pretty sure Jim hadn’t actually gotten from his time at ‘Ole Miss. 

“You little shit, I thought I lost that shirt.” 

Jim looked up at him in an exhausted kind of surprise. The kid obviously hadn’t been sleeping well and it was starting to show after the emotional outburst. He looked down at his shirt and squinted. 

“Oh, uh yeah.” He flicked his tongue against his lip stud and shot Len a goofy grin. “I might have forgotten to get it back to you.” 

\------------------------------------------

There had been about an hour of people changing, a few drinks being made and people moving the nest of sleeping bags and blankets at least two times each. The night stuck at the club seemed to be turning into the most ridiculous sleepover any of them had ever been at. It reminded Len of the movie nights at the cafe with the Scotts. The storm actually made him think of one night in particular, not at the cafe, but at Gaila’s and Scotty’s home. 

There had been a storm raging outside and neither Jim, nor Len had wanted to leave the warm comfort of the apartment only to go home alone. So Gaila threw them into a guest room and told them to stop looking so pathetic. Jim had an old flat top guitar and was sitting on the bed in his boxers and a shirt he obviously stole from Scotty – at least Len was pretty sure that Jim didn’t really follow rugby. 

Jim was humming and picking absently at the steel strings. 

“New song, kid?” Len crawled onto the bed behind his boyfriend, settling his legs on either side of Jim’s hips. He wrapped an arm around the blond’s waist and set his chin on Jim’s shoulder. His free hand was absently playing across the ink on Jim’s thigh that wasn’t quite covered up by he boxers. 

“Yeah. Had you in mind.” Jim leaned into Len’s chest and kept humming. Eventually he began to sing. His voice a half-whisper as he lay his head back against the doctor’s shoulder. 

“I am thinking it’s a sign. That the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss, they’re perfectly aligned.” Jim paused in the song to lean up and kiss Len’s neck. 

_And I have to speculate_

_That God himself did make us_

_Into corresponding shapes_

_Like puzzle pieces from the clay_

_And true it may seem like a stretch_

_But it's thoughts like this that catch_

_My troubled head when you're away_

_When I am missing you to death_

_When you are out there on the road_

_For several weeks of shows_

_And when you scan the radio_

_I hope this song will guide you home_

_They will see us waving from such great heights_

_Come down now, they'll say_

_But everything looks perfect from far away_

_Come down now but we'll stay_

 It was a quiet moment between them and a quiet moment in Len’s memory. Looking at Jim now, those memories seemed to hurt a little less. Things weren’t fixed – they weren’t even close – but with some luck and a lot of hard work, maybe they could find something in each other again. He hummed the song softly, eyes closed tight. He heard Jim just a few feet away, speaking softly so not to wake the rest of the group.

"I was thinking about that night too." 

Len shifted in the mess of blankets that their little crew had managed to pile together. If his hand happened to find Jim’s under the covers, and if Jim happened to lace their fingers together, who else needed to know?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs for this chapter are "Georgia On My Mind" by Ray Charles and "Such Great Heights" by Iron and Wine


	13. Awful Beautiful Life

**Chapter 13 - Awful Beautiful Life**

 

They managed a hug before Jim and the band piled into their van and drove off down the road. The escort car led them to the airport while Len, Carol, and Christine waited for another one to lead them back into town. Len waved as the van disappeared out of sight, wondering if he’d actually get to see the blond again. 

“So...” Carol was looking at him over the top of the car, her chin resting on her crossed arms while she balanced on the edge of the door’s opening. “Want to explain why you managed to be referred to as only ‘the bastard’ in my circle of friends?” 

Len heaved a sigh and looked up to the skies as if to ask why this shit happened to him. 

“I told Jim—”

“Oh no, I know what you said to him. I know _how_ you broke up with him. I want to know why.” She arched an eyebrow at the man. “Because as far as I can tell, you were as miserable as he was.” 

Christine finished packing the last of the blankets back into her car. 

“Carol, that’s none of your business and you know it.” She glowered at her sister before prodding at the younger woman’s sides to get her off the car. 

“It’s okay, Christy.” He grimaced. “My father threatened him. Threatened me, too, and my ex-wife’s husband. All kinds of shit. He has a lot of power over people he shouldn’t.” Len walked over to the car to lean up against it. He kicked a foot out and shoved his hands in his pockets absently. “That’s why your sister and I are going to start exposing him.”

Carol looked over at her sister in surprise. Christine shrugged innocently. “I don’t like bullies.” 

The escort car pulled up before the silence could get too awkward. They piled into Christine’s car and began off down the road. Carol turned around to look at Len in the back seat. 

“When are you going to do it?” 

“I don’t know.” 

\------------------------------------------

The time to do it came a lot sooner than Len had been expecting. He was thinking maybe another six months and they’d have enough to make sure his father couldn’t even pretend like he had a leg to stand on. It had only been three months since Jim had shown up in Georgia and while the doctor had a lot of evidence he wasn’t sure it would scare his father into surrendering right away. 

His plans became much more immediate when the radio started playing the new Prime Directive single. 

_I drove through the desert last night_

_I carried the weight of our last fight_

_Elvis singing "don't be cruel"_

_And I wonder if you feel it too_

_It's like we're going under_

 

_Somewhere outside the lonely Esmeralda county line_

_The question of my heart came to my mind_

 

_If I go on_

_With you by my side_

_Can it be_

_The way it was_

_When we met_

_Did you forget all about those golden nights?_

 

Len jerked his car to the side of the road, throwing it into park, ignoring the angry honks that followed him. After a few deep breaths, he rested his head on the steering wheel and let the rest of the song flow through him. 

 

_I remember driving_

_In my daddy's car to the airfield_

_Blanket on the hood, backs against the windshield_

_Back then this thing was running on momentum, love and trust_

_That paradise is buried in the dust_

 

He remembered that night. Jim had his dad’s old truck, only thing he really had left from his dad. There had been a ’65 corvette at one point too, but apparently it was at the bottom of a canyon in Iowa now. The truck wasn’t in great shape anymore, but they drove it out anyway, parking it in the twilight of the airfield during the summer. Jim spread out an old blanket on the hood of the car and they both scrambled up onto it and leaned against the windshield. They lay there with their heads back, hands clasped tight, and watched the stars come out. It was one of Len’s favorite memories. Apparently it was one of Jim’s too. 

 

_All of our plans have fallen through_

_Sometimes a dream, it don't come true_

 

_Darling!_

_Darling!_

 

_If we go on_

_Can it be_

_The way it was_

 

Jim’s voice echoed through Len’s chest, asking all the questions they had been too afraid to bring up three months ago. Suddenly he couldn’t wait any more. Not three more months, not three more days, not three more minutes. 

He pulled out his phone and called Christine first. 

“Get the information on my father together, I’m going to California tomorrow.” After she assured him she’d have it ready for him by five that night he punched another number into his phone. 

“Scotty, don’t hang up.” 

\------------------------------------------

“You’re a damned fool, McCoy, I hope you know that.” Scotty looked exactly how Leonard remembered him. Short, slightly thinning hair, and more mouth than one person should be trusted with. “You’re lucky I didn’t just leave you here, begging for a ride like a wanker.” 

“I know, Scotty.” Len grinned and grabbed the man into a hug. The shorter man laughed and pounded a hand against Len’s back. 

“What’s this I hear about you not being a right bastard, then?” 

“I’ll explain in the car, I have a meeting with my father in 45 minutes.” The plane had been delayed by three hours. He had planned to change and prepare for the epic fallout he was about to invoke. As it was he was going to face David McCoy in a rumbled shirt and slacks, he didn’t want to add being late on top of everything else. 

Scotty dropped him off outside the office building his father worked out of when not in Sacramento. Gathering his courage with a deep breath he made his way in. 

His father’s office had been something that always intimidated him. It did at the house in Georgia and it did here. He stood up straight and walked in when the secretary nodded and gestured for him to continue. His father was facing the window when he opened the door. He let it close with a soft click and waited.

“Ah you must be the gentleman who has some, what was it? Information?” He turned around. His eyebrows flew up at the sight of his son, shock quickly replaced by annoyance. “Lenny, I have an appointment. You can’t just come in here whenever you like. When did you even fly out?”

Len ignored the reprimand and walked over to David’s desk. He slowly, pointedly placed the thick paper folder in front of his father. 

“I have enough evidence here to completely destroy your standing.” He made sure that he looked his father straight on, demanding eye contact. “I have information on how you got Archer fired and how Marcus has been paying you off to ignore some of the more reprehensible actions his officers enjoy. I doubt even you could justify turning a blind eye to drugs missing from the evidence lockers. I even have a few things in here about the outright extortion you’ve been committing against at least three extremely angry people. They were very happy to help.”

Leonard watched as the color slowly drained from David’s face. He let the information sink in, not moving from his spot, not breaking eye contact. After a few long moments, the governor seemed to come back to himself. 

“You wouldn’t dare. I’m your _father_ , Leonard.”

“An accident of birth.” 

David’s expression went from disbelief to ice cold fury in a flash.

‘What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything.” Len picked the folder back up and tucked it under his arm, making sure to keep his face passive, almost casual. “I’m not blackmailing you. I’m not asking for anything. I’ll telling you what I’m going to do.”

“You’re really going to let the family name be destroyed?” It was a last ditch effort, Len could hear the desperation in his father’s voice. 

“For someone so concerned about their image, you really should have been more careful about your actions.” 

Len turned on his heel and started out of the office, pausing at the door to look back over his shoulder. 

“Oh. And David?” David looked up with a scowl. “When the press starts asking questions, don’t forget to smile like you mean it.”

When he met Scotty back at the car he was shaking and there was a dull pounding in his head that he was fairly sure would only go away with a drink. 

“I’m proud of you, lad.” 

Len offered him a weak smile and collapsed into the front seat of the car.

“Just get me a drink, you Scottish bastard.” 

Scotty laughed and put the car in gear. 

“I think I know just the place.”

\------------------------------------------

It was strange being back in the club after two years of trying not to think about it. It had changed a little here and there: a new bar counter, some better lighting for the stage, new tables, but it was familiar enough to make his chest ache. 

“Someone playing tonight?” He looked toward the chalkboard to see who would be up on stage, but it had been wiped clean. 

“Yeah, a honky tonk night, actually.” Scotty pushed Len over to the bar before the doctor could decide if he should laugh or work his way into a nervous breakdown. “Sit. I’m going to get you a stiff drink.” 

Two minutes later he had a few fingers of scotch in a glass and the crowd of the club was starting to get restless from the lack of music. They cheered when someone came out of the dressing room. Len craned his neck to see who it was. 

His stomach dropped when he realized it was a very ruffled-looking Jim. They had sent a few texts back and forth since the kid went home, but nothing that told either of them where this was going. Jim was grinning and flushed, like he had been rushing to get ready. Len realized that maybe he had been – must have been. Jim was wearing a short sleeved tee, his tattoos bared clearly on his arms as he vaulted himself up onto the stage, taking his guitar from a helpful Gaila. The singer took a few quick steps to the mic as he slung the instrument over his shoulder. 

“Hey!” The bar cheered, raising their glasses as Jim adjusted the mic stand. “Sorry I’m late, I didn’t actually know I was going to be playing here until about 30 minutes ago.” He laughed and swung his guitar around front, picking a few quick notes to make sure it was still in tune. “I’ll have to talk to my manager about that. Good man, Pike, but I could have used a little more warning.” 

Len quickly shot a look at Scotty, who was innocently cleaning a glass and not so innocently avoiding the doctor’s eyes. He got the distinct feeling that Pike had nothing to do with Jim playing here tonight. 

“As you guys probably know, I don’t usually sing too much country anymore.” Jim was making a few adjustments to the strings. The color in his cheeks was starting to fade and Len found himself able to take in his entire appearance. Jim’s hair was ruffled and a little silly-looking, his earrings the normal studs the kid wore before he started going on stage for a living. His fingernails were a dark blue and his shoes were bright green. It was the Jim that Len had met and fallen in love with. “But I don’t know, it seemed like tonight would be a good one to dip back into it.” 

Jim started off on the soft melody that hadn’t made it’s way into his music in a long time. 

_What's your all time high, your good as it gets?_

_Your hands down best ever make-up sex?_

_What's your guilty pleasure, your old go to?_

_Well if you asked me, mine would be you_

 

_What's your worst hangover, your best night yet?_

_Your 90 proof, your Marlboro Red?_

_The best damn thing you lucked into_

_That's easy girl, mine would be you_

 

_Mine would be you_

_Sun keeps shining, back road flying_

_Singing like crazy fools_

_Making up our own words_

_Laughing 'til it hurts_

_Baby, if I had to choose_

_My best day ever_

_My finest hour, my wildest dream come true_

_Mine would be you_

 

_What's your double dare, your go all in?_

_The craziest thing you ever did?_

_Plain as your name in this tattoo_

_Look on my arm, mine would be yo_ u

 

Jim looked over to the bar, a scene so close and yet so completely different from the one back in Georgia. Len’s heart was beating just as wildly, but seemed so much lighter than it had that rainy night. Jim wanted it to work just as badly as he did. He grinned and raised his glass up in a toast. The singer grinned back. 

\------------------------------------------

“You had no right.” Jim was picking at the label of his soda bottle to avoid looking at Len. They were sitting in Jim’s new house, it was small and comfortable like the TV room Len had before he moved. They were sprawled out on the couch, Jim’s feet in Len’s lap. “You should have told me, let me decide if I wanted to risk sticking around or not.” 

The brunet stroked the inside of Jim’s ankle absently. It was nice just sitting alone with him after so long and he didn’t want to ruin it by talking about this, but he knew it couldn’t be avoided. 

“He was threatening to take Joanna away from me too. And he was going to do it by getting a good man fired so that he couldn’t support his family. I... it wasn’t just about you, Jim. A lot of it was, but not all of it.” He sighed as Jim pulled his feet away and shifted to lay his head in Len’s lap instead. The blond took Len’s left hand and pulled it close to his face, pushing the sleeve out of the way. He traced his fingers along the bold **JTK** inked into the skin. 

“You really love me, Bones?”

“With all my heart, Jim.” 

A soft smile quirked Jim’s lips before he pressed a chaste kiss to Len’s tattoo. 

“Good, because you’re stuck with me now.” 

“Guess I’ll have to tell Christine to cancel the engagement party.” He leaned down to kiss Jim. Jim wrapped an arm around his shoulders and smiled into the kiss. He pulled away to grin up at his Bones. 

“Every time you kiss me, it’s like sunshine and whiskey.” 

Len chuckled and kissed him again. 

“Am I going to have to get used to you singing everything again?”

“For you, Bones, I’ll stick to love songs.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs in this chapter are "The Way It Was" by The Killers and "Mine Would Be You" by Blake Shelton.


	14. Deadlines And Commitments

**Chapter 14 - Deadlines And Commitments**

 

Things went slowly. They were both dealing with the fallout of David McCoy’s less-than-ethical practices being brought to light, keeping them busy and constantly on edge. Len was fielding calls and repeatedly answering no comment to invasive questions. Jim was avoiding questions about his connection to the family and struggling to remember that Len had only left in a misguided attempt to protect him. It didn’t help that Jim was about to leave on a tour and Len was still living in Georgia. 

“I didn’t expect everything to be sunshine and flowers right away or anything,” Jim muttered as he picked at the label of his soda bottle despondently. “But it would be nice if we actually had a chance to, you know, talk again.” 

Len grunted in agreement. They had barely had time to see each other, let alone start working on rebuilding the relationship Len had so thoroughly turned to rubble. Now they were sitting in a cafe, finishing up a light meal and gathering the resolve to face the crowd of cameras that awaited them outside. It was their last day together before Len had to hop a plane back home and Jim had to pack up his things for the tour. It would be another six months before they could see each other. 

Jim sighed and flicked his tongue against his lip peircing. “Maybe this was a bad idea. Trying to work things out.” 

“We already did this part, Jim.” Len reached across the table to take the bottle out of Jim’s hands and lace their fingers together. “We’ll figure this out. It’s just going to take some time.” Admittedly, Len was starting to worry about their decision too, but the thought of Jim walking out of his life again was a painful enough to remind him it was worth it. “Once your tour is done, once my dad’s trial is over, things will settle down and we can really get to know each other again.” 

Six months. Things could fall apart or the distance could make them even more determined to rebuild what they had lost. If they wanted this to work, they had no choice but to wait and see.

\------------------------------------------

Len was starting to weigh the merits of calling in a bomb threat to get out of the meeting. He found himself staring at the clock, counting down the minutes until it was finally over. 

_Ten minutes._

He bit back a breath of hysterical laughter. The differences behind two nearly identical moments, a little less than five years apart, made him feel giddy. He was back in California, he was still waiting to get out of a meeting that made him want to bang his head against the desk, and he was getting glares from the other people sitting around the table. 

This time, however, he was dying to get out of the stuffy room, not because he dreaded them asking for his father’s influence, but because he had someplace very important to be. 

Much like the last time a meeting was unexpectedly sprung on him, Len would be ending his night at Warp Core. 

He’d also be seeing Jim.  For the first time in six months and the first time since they had decided to wait and see how their relationship would pan out, Jim and Len would have a chance to sit down and talk. The idea was making Len excited and sick to his stomach all at once. 

The last six months had been hellish in a way Len hadn’t thought possible. 

He had decided to move back to California only a month after Jim left on tour. Not because of Jim, but because he felt more at home there than he did in Georgia now. All of his friends (and God did it feel good to have friends again) were there, the job he had enjoyed the most was there, and Joanna was old enough to spend the summers there with him. It didn’t hurt that Jim would be returning to California after his tour, but Len knew he had to move there for himself, not for Jim.

The move had been easy enough. He was renting a small place about twenty minutes away from Warp Core and Fleet Medical Center had been more than willing to take the skilled surgeon back. What had been hard was being back on Jim’s terf, on good terms with Jim, and not being able to actually _be_ with him. They chatted on the phone when their schedules allowed, but even the e-mails and pictures their shared didn’t make the lack of physical closeness any less sharp. If anything, the distance made it painfully obvious how broken their relationship had been. 

Jim admitted during their last call that he didn’t feel like they had made a whole lot of progress over the last half year. The miles between them was too much like the emotional distance they had so recently started working through. Len found himself agreeing, only feeling the knot in his stomach loosen when Jim shyly confessed that he thought about Len more now than he had when they first started dating. He missed him. Jim missed him just as much as Len missed Jim and somehow, that made all of it so much easier.

Len stumbled into Warp Core to find Jim already on stage, singing and putting on a show with an enthusiasm that no tour could capture. This was Jim playing for his home town, the ultimate comfort zone. 

Len smiled as Scotty shoved a toxic looking drink into his hand. “The hell is this?” 

Scotty grinned manically. “New brew! We call it the Warp Core Breach. You don’t want to know what’s in it, but if I told you, you wouldn’t remember after drinking it anyway.” 

Len laughed and pushed the drink back at his friend. “No thanks, I like being able to remember my nights.”

“Just thought you could use some liquid courage.” Scotty gestured up to the stage where the man Len had been waiting six months to see sang. “Though, listening to the song, maybe not.” 

Len focused on the music that was playing over the normal sounds of the club. He had caught Jim’s eye and the singer angled toward him. Jim was making sure there was no doubt that the song was for Len.

 

_I feel the love_

_And I feel it burn_

_Down this river every turn_

_Hope is our four letter word_

_Make that money_

_Watch it burn_

 

_Old, but I'm not that old_

_Young, but I'm not that bold_

_And I don't think the world is sold_

_I'm just doing what we're told_

 

_And I feel something so wrong_

_By doing the right thing_

_I couldn't lie, couldn't lie, couldn't lie_

_Everything that drowns me makes me wanna fly_

 

_Lately I been, I been losing sleep (hey!)_

_Dreaming about the things that we could be_

_But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard_

_Said no more counting dollars_

_We'll be counting stars_

_Lately I been, I been losing sleep (hey!)_

_Dreaming about the things that we could be_

_But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard (hey!)_

_Said no more counting dollars_

_We'll be, we'll be counting stars_

 

Jim jumped off the stage without warning and shoved his way through the crowd to where Len stood. He grabbed the front of the man’s shirt and pulled him in for a searing kiss. Len gripped at Jim’s biceps, dazed by the sudden kiss and weak at the knees. It certainly seemed like Jim had made up his mind. 

“The last six months were almost as bad as the two years before them. There is no way in hell I am letting you out of my reach again, Bones. I love you.” 

Len blinked at him, mouth gaping. He had expected another few weeks of conversations, doubts, hell at the very least he had expected for Jim to wait until they were in private. Then again, Len wasn’t about to look a gift-horse in the mouth. Jim wanted him back. After everything Jim still wanted Len. 

“I love you too, Jim.” 

Jim grinned and pulled Len in for another kiss. “Good. When are you moving in?” 

\------------------------------------------

_Lead singer for Prime Directive, Jim Kirk, is seen above with longterm boyfriend Leonard McCoy. The two seemed to be enjoying a day away from Kirk’s fans at an upscale restaurant in Santa Monica last weekend. Not an unusual sight for last month’s 'Hottest Celebrity Couple.' However, the plain gold bands that they had on their ring fingers were. Did the ex-governor's son finally take the plunge with our favorite bad boy? This reporter certainly hopes so!_

Len stared at the tabloid, brow furrowed and lips pursed. It wasn’t unusual for him to see their faces splashed across rags like this, he was almost used to it after his father’s publicity stunts and now Jim’s fame, yet he couldn’t quite shake the irritation he felt about this particular blurb.

It probably had something to do with the fact that he and Jim _weren’t_ married. 

“I swear to god, they should make you take a morality test before they sell you photoshop.” Len threw down the magazine in disgust. Jim gave a noncommittal hum, not bothering to look up from the notebook he was busy scribbling music notes into. “Seriously, it’s only a matter of time before they get to Jo. Can you imagine what it’s going to be like when they get their grubby little hands on her?” Another hum and the sound of a pencil scratching. “Jim!”

Jim jumped and looked up with wide eyes. His reading glasses slid down his nose and Len couldn’t fight back an amused snort. 

“Sorry, Bones. What?” In Jim’s defense, it was before eleven o’clock in the morning. Even after a cup of coffee, it still took Jim a good two hours to wake up completely, which meant that he couldn’t write and listen at the same time. 

“I said I’m worried about the tabloids getting to Joanna.” Len gestured at the magazine he had thrown onto the kitchen table. Jim’s eyes flicked to the picture of them walking out of the restaurant, hands clasped. Joanna was ten and just as smart as Len always said she’d be. If she were a little older the tabloids would have their hands full trying to pin her down, but right now, she only had her parents for protection. Between Len’s scowl, Clay’s careful planning, and Jocelyn’s fiercely-worded warnings, they had managed to keep Joanna out of the papers when David McCoy went down in flames. They refused to let them play her as the victim of a corrupt politicians folly.  Now, though? Now she was the daughter of a rock star’s boyfriend and it was up to Jim to make sure they knew Joanna McCoy was off-limits. 

Jim hummed thoughtfully. Len had already made it clear that he wouldn’t accept anyone messing with his daughter for a story, if the paparazzi knew that Jim was backing him, it could help. He grinned and leaned over the table to give Len a quick kiss. 

“Don’t worry, Bones. We’ll make sure they understand.” 

\------------------------------------------

“So.” Jim looked out at the crowd that filled the stadium with a grin. They quickly quieted after cheering the end of the last song. “I recently had this person waltz her way into my life.” There were cheers and one catcall. Jim laughed and waved it off. “No, dude! She’s only ten! Her name is Joanna and she is, without a doubt, the coolest kid I have ever met. She’s smart, beautiful, funny, and deserves the world. So this is my song for her.” 

 

A bell rang off stage and Jim grabbed the microphone. 

 

_She's a pillar by the day, a fire by night_

_She's a famous architect, like Frank Lloyd Wright_

_When it comes to tightrope walkin', she's world renowned_

 

_Her elegance and charm are worthy of praise_

_And I heard she used to throw for the Oakland A's_

_She works too hard at 68 hours a week, I've yet to meet her match_

 

_A marvel of modern science_

_She's a natural born pioneer_

_I can't make up my mind,_

_Should I put her on display or hide her?_

 

_I'm gonna be her prize fighter_

_I know that she's out of my league_

_I'm gonna be her prize fighter_

_My uniform has been decreed_

 

The crowd screamed and cheered. Jim shot them a confused smile and continued. 

 

_I'm gonna be her prize fighter_

_No label's gonna change where she's from_

_I'm gonna be her prize fighter_

_And I'm dancin' to the beat of her drum_

 

It wasn’t until he felt a tug at his elbow that he realized why they had been screaming. Joanna was standing next to him, grin splitting her face. Jim laughed and took a moment to swoop her up into his arms and spin her around before setting her back down. He took the microphone off the stand and got down on one knee in front of her. He took one of her hands in his and kissed the back of it softly. 

 

_I'm gonna be her prize fighter_

_Though the weather may be foul_

_I'm gonna be her prize fighter_

_Though the wind and the wolves may howl_

 

_Through the sunshine, through the rain_

_I'm gonna be her prize fighter_

_Over and over again_

 

Joanna threw her arms around Jim’s neck and he laughed, hooking an arm around her and hugging her back fiercely. The crowd was going wild, cameras were flashing, and just off stage Len was watching the two most important people in his life grinning at each other like nothing could ever go wrong. 

Len kept watching them with a crooked smile. He realized he couldn’t even begin to imagine a life without Jim getting down on one knee and singing to his daughter in front of thousands of people. Trying to think of what it would be like to go through his morning without seeing Jim zombie-shuffle into the kitchen and blindly grope around for coffee just made his chest ache. Knowing that all he had to do to make sure that he’d never have to worry about losing either of those was ask Jim to marry him…

It seemed like the easiest solution in the world. After all, he already had the ring.   

\------------------------------------------

Jim turned the thin gold band over in his fingers slowly, unable to keep the awe off his face. He hadn’t intended to find it, really he hadn’t. He had needed a pair of clean boxers and Bones had actually done his laundry so Jim was going to borrow a pair. He hadn’t meant to find the little gray ring box. Yet here it was, a simple band, too large to fit over Bones’ elegant hands. Jim pushed it onto his ring finger, swallowing hard when it slipped on perfectly, just barely catching his knuckle. He jumped when someone cleared their throat. 

“You’re worse than a kid the week before christmas.” Len had his arms crossed over his chest and was leaning against the door jamb in a perfect picture of lazy irritation. His expression, though, was relaxed and a little shy. “Glad to see it fits.” 

It was obvious that Jim was nervous, he was shifting uncomfortably and practically chewing on the inside of his lip as he rocked the ring off his finger and carefully put it back in the box. It hadn’t been the reaction Len was hoping for, but then again, he hadn’t expected Jim to find the ring on his own either. He probably should have known better, honestly. 

Finally Jim took a deep breath. The words left him in a rush. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to get married again.” He winced at how high his own voice sounded, but continued. “I mean, you’ve been engaged twice, neither one really for love. I just don’t really…” 

Len sighed and shuffled over to sit on the bed next to Jim. He took the box out of Jim’s nervous fingers and opened it up, regarding the band with scrutiny. “My father sees marriage as a business transaction. He knew that me getting married would further what he thought was important for the family and I was too scared to fight him on it. After Joce… I just resigned myself to the fact that getting married was for convenience and I wasn’t going to get married just because it would cause my father problems.” Len blushed a little at his confession, even now it felt like a childish reason, but it was the truth and Jim deserved that. 

“Now,” his voice was hushed, he finally looked up at Jim who was watching him with the same kind of intensity Len had focused on the ring. “Now I’m getting to do it on my own terms. This isn’t a business transaction, it isn’t for convenience. This is to make sure everyone knows we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together. I want to marry you, Jim.” 

They were quiet for a long moment, Len could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he waited for Jim’s reaction. He could practically hear the thoughts zigzagging behind those blue eyes as Jim worked out what Len had told him. 

“You want to marry me because it’s the first time you’ve had the choice?” Jim’s eyes flicked down to the box still in Len’s hands. Len took Jim’s chin in his hand and made him look at him. 

“I want to marry you because I love you.” 

Jim smirked and leaned forward to kiss him. “Good answer.” 

“It’s the only answer.” Len tugged at Jim’s ear teasingly, running his fingers over the earrings that ran up the lobe. “So what do you say, James Tiberius Kirk? Will you marry me?” 

Jim wrapped his arms around Len’s shoulders and pulled the man in for a deep kiss. 

“I’d like to see you try and stop me.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs this chapter are "Counting Stars" by Onerepublic and "Prizefighter" by The Killers


	15. Encore

**Chapter 15 - Encore**

 

**_Ten Years Later_ **

The group congregated in the dining room of the Victorian style home was eclectic to say the least. No less than fifteen people had managed to crowd around the large table that was laden with food and drinks, and each one was contributing to the din of conversation that filled the room.

Scotty and Len were enthusiastically debating over the best use of the new addition that was being planned for Warp Core. Both of them were well into their drinks and they seemed to be trying to outdo each other’s outrageous ideas rather than actually make plans. Sulu was egging them on by either agreeing or disagree and throwing in ideas of his own from time to time.

Gaila and Chekov were talking music, which (as usual) devolved into them trying to one up each other on knowledge of classical composers and best kinds of sound systems. 

Uhura and Clay were speaking animatedly in Italian, though what about was anyone’s guess. 

Spock seemed content to help the three-year-old Amanda cut her food and listen while Jocelyn and Christine discussed the latest medical discoveries. They only stopped when Christine had to interrupt her sister and reiterate that there would be _no lasers at my damn wedding and Janice Rand how many times do I have to tell you to stop encouraging her. I should have known better than to start dating a friend of Jim’s._ Jim quickly stepped in to defend the lasers, but not Janice who tried to swat at him over Carol’s head. 

No one took any notice of the young woman with blonde curls that stood up and cleared her throat. Heaving a sigh she took a deep breath.

“HEY!”

The crowd quickly fell quiet and everyone turned to stare at her. From near the head of the table Jim bit back a smile and quirked an eyebrow. 

“Sorry did you say something, Jo?” 

Joanna grinned and wrinkled her nose at the man. “Yes, actually I did.” 

“Well, don’t let us stop you,” Len drawled, waving his hand as a sign for his daughter to continue. Jo snickered, but took the hint to start her speech. 

“So, as you know, we’re all here to celebrate ten ridiculously long years of these two idiots being married.” Jim put on a look of mock offense at the insult, but the rest of the table just seemed to nod and murmur in agreement. “And no doubt, we’ve all suffered through the nearly unbelievable tale of them finding each other after years of self-inflicted idiocy and pain more times than we can count and Daddy stop looking so put-out. I know it was complicated. I’m just saying that you two sound like a poorly written romance novel when it’s all spelled out.” Len rolled his eyes and leaned into Jim when the singer threw an arm over his shoulder and kissed his temple softly. Jo smiled innocently and continued. “What I want to talk about, though, is the first time I met Jim. I can’t remember a lot, seeing as I was only six, but I do remember three things very clearly.” 

Jo held up one finger. “I remember that I was promised an ice cream that I never got.” A chuckle ran around the table. A second finger went up on Jo’s hand. “I remember thinking Jim was some kind of alien because of all the metal on his face.” Another chuckle and a third finger. “And finally, I remember being glad that Daddy had found someone who made him laugh, because I hadn't heard him laugh in a really long time.” 

The scowl that been on Len’s face since Joanna started on about their poorly-written love story, softened. He smiled softly at Jo and then Jim. Jim looked near tears, but they were losing a battle against the grin that lit up his face.

“I know that you two had a very rough time for awhile, but I just want to say how grateful I am that you managed to find each other inspite of it. Daddy, thank you for bringing someone as sweet and caring as Jim into my life. Jim, thank you for reminding my Daddy how to laugh again and keeping him laughing all this time. Thank you both for being two of the three best dads a kid could hope for.” She shot a quick smile to Clay who was biting back a smile.

“To the bickering couple!” Jo raised up her glass. The entire table cheered and each person raised their own glass to the couple sitting at the head of the table. 

Almost instantly the chatter resumed, everyone launching into their stories of Jim and Bones and the ridiculous antics that the last ten years of marriage and the entire fifteen years of knowing each other got them into. Everyone had a story to top the last and soon the night had faded into the wee hours of the morning and people made their excuses to leave or head to bed. 

Len placed the last of the dishes in the dishwasher with a tired sigh and stretched his back as he straightened up. It had been a wonderful dinner, but a very long night and he was more than ready to crawl into his soft bed. He turned to make his way to the bedroom, only to run right into his husband, who quickly wrapped his arms around Len and refused to budge.

“Jim, come on. I want to go to bed.” He let his head fall to Jim’s shoulder in a weak protest. Jim just nuzzled into him, placing soft kisses where his neck met his shoulder. 

“Did you think we’d be here fifteen years ago?” Jim had started swaying them back and forth, humming softly against the skin of Len’s neck. Len smiled into Jim’s shoulder and let the blond lead their half-assed dance. 

“I had no idea where I’d be fifteen years ago. “ he admitted. “I was just trying not to fall in love with a tatted-up country singer. You can see how well that turned out.” Jim snorted and bit Len teasingly.

“Pretty damned well, I’d say.” 

Len chuckled and leaned back to look at Jim. The singer’s age was starting to show, he certainly wasn’t twenty-four anymore, but age looked good on him. The smile lines that had caught Len’s attention the very first day were deeper now and complimented the graying at Jim’s temples. The eyebrow piercing had been taken out about five years ago, along with the dermals, the nose ring, and the industrial piercing. Jim had grown tired of them, but not the rest of his earnings or the lip piercing that he still played with when he was thinking or nervous. The tattoos on Jim’s arms were seen more often than not now due to the confidence that Jim had gained with the years. 

Len caught the sight of his own tattoo, stark on his wrist. The letters as bold a declaration as the day he got it. He smiled and looked back to Jim’s own smiled creased face. Ten years… Ten years that Len knew showed on his own face as well. The gray streaking through his dark hair was more obvious than Jim’s and he had deep lines around his mouth instead of his eyes. Jim insisted that Len got more handsome with each year gone, and Len couldn’t help but believe him when he said it with such fondness each time. 

“Nah. Terrible. Worst thing that ever happened to me.” 

Jim laughed and leaned forward to place an adoring kiss on his husband’s lips. Their banter hadn’t faded over the years, if anything it had gotten worse. Joanna had warned them time and time again that the tabloids would probably take them seriously, but the couple ignored it and continued to mock and tease each other regardless. When it came down to it, there was no doubt in their minds exactly how this story would turn out. 

They would bicker and make fun of each other. Len would practice medicine and Jim would write songs. They would grow old together and love each other for longer than either of them would live. 

“Seriously though, Bones.” Jim reached up and stroked a warm hand over Len’s cheek. “I love you. Thank you for coming back, thank you for the best ten years of my life.” 

Len leaned into Jim’s touch and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, Jim. Thank you for all the years to come.”

In the end, after all the heartache, after all the days and years lost, everything had turned out okay. 

Jim was alive and Len was smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww look a happy ending! Thank you everyone for reading and thank you to all my wonderful Betas (Matt and Danielle especially you guys are awesome). 
> 
> I have to admit it's very likely this isn't the last you'll see of this AU, I've grown ridiculously attached to it.


End file.
